thinking about touch starved ryland grace whos hips buck up the second your mouth makes contact with this dick, hell! he moaned the second air touched his dick!! thinking about how he definitely grips any nearly surface with all his strength and tries to keep quiet. but he cant stay quiet, of course he cant, its been so long! hes a whimpering mess, groans and moans of 'thank you' and 'so good' come out his mouth. some whimpers so high pitched and pathetic that he cant believe theyre coming from him. he thinks hes the luckiest guy in the universe for this. he apologises when his hips buck making you gag or when he sees tears streaming your face due to the sheer size of him. and you love it.
Summary: You and Ryland are both given the amnesia serum so the primary crew has scientists on the Hail Mary. When you wake up 12 light years from Earth, neither of you remembers anything except for an unsettling dislike for the other person. An interaction with alien life has Ryland infected with a disease neither of you have seen before. What are you going to do?
Word Count: 11.8K
Warnings: NSFW content (18+ ONLY PLEASE), a little bit of male masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex (DON'T DO THIS. WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT.), sex pollen/fuck or die, swearing, primal urges/slight predator prey vibes, breeding kink, praise kink, a little overstimulation, slight voyeurism(I mean they're on a ship with an alien so...), virgin!Reader, amnesia, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, forced proximity, SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK(this covers a wide span of time, so I would say if you haven't read to basically the end, be cautious!), let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: Please only interact if you are 18+! Blank/empty blogs and blogs with no ages will be blocked! Just because I wrote this does not mean I will write more smut, this is just an itch my brain needed to write!
A/N: Hello again my darlings! Here is the FINAL fic for the [mini] Big Bang event with my bestie @bluebellhairpin! This one has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS and this was the perfect time to bring it out of hiding... Uh, so please enjoy? I have never written anything like this and probably won't again LOL - Birch<3
Love Confessions Event Masterlist
Please proceed with caution!!! NSFW AND SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!
You had never wanted to be a part of the crew.
You were a scientist. That was it. A scientist with a strong foundation in molecular biology and genetic engineering. That was your contribution to Project Hail Mary.
Ryland had never wanted to be a part of the crew.
He was a teacher. That was it. A teacher, formerly a scientist, with a strong foundation in molecular biology and astrophysics. That was his contribution to Project Hail Mary.
Neither of you had wanted to be a part of the crew. But you were.
You both had woken up 12 light years from Earth with no recollection of who you were, where you were, or what you were supposed to be doing. Ryland had woken up first - a mere 20 minutes before you.
Immediately, you had disliked him. Something about his presence just... didn't sit right with you. Maybe it was because he had the same realizations you did. An overlap in interests when it was pretty obvious the crew was specifically picked for everyone's greatest strengths.
And for some reason, you shared strengths with Ryland. Were you not good enough to send alone? They had to send a second scientist with? Who, by the way, got his memories back a lot fast than you did.
He was always one step ahead. One game level above you. All the time. It was really freaking annoying.
So as time slips by and the two of you gain back the essential memories for the mission, gain an alien friend, and set out for the planet Adrian, you are left with a strong dislike for the blonde-haired scientist.
- - -
And rightfully so. Adrian went to shit.
Rocky almost died.
Ryland almost died.
You almost died.
Yes, the three of you got the sampler back up and into the ship - but at what cost?
"I don't think you should be the one to open the sampler," you argue as you follow as closely as you can on Ryland's heels. In the accident, you had gotten slightly crushed by loose material in the dormitory and had suffered a leg injury. Nothing that the robot arms couldn't wrap up.
To you, Ryland's arm injury was the worse of the two wounds, and, because it was on his arm, he shouldn't be the one lifting and opening the sample from Adrian's atmosphere.
Ryland ignores you as he shuffles across the lab. "I told you, I will open it," he says a little gruffly as he sets the sampler down. A moment later, he gathers the contraption Rocky had made so that either of you could get a sample onto a microscope slide.
Rocky is still recovering, and he hovers above the two of you in one of his tunnels. His carapace is lowered, and his legs are folded underneath him to support his weight. The ship is only at 0.5Gs. It's less strenuous on everyone that way.
Tension fills the air. All three of you know it.
Not only is there the spat between you and the other scientist - the savior for both Earth and Erid could lie in Ryland's hands.
Everyone wants to know if there is a predator for Astrophage in that sample. Everyone is scared that there might not be. Then what? Then what happens?
No one wants to think about it, no one wants to say anything about it. So tensions rise, and the air of the ship seems to grow warmer as you and Ryland bicker back and forth over it.
"I've got it," he snaps back, setting the sampler down on the lab table in front of the two of you. You go to open your mouth to retort, but Rocky's voice chimes in quietly, unsure. "Why fight, question? Open sampler. Save Earth, save Erid. No need fight. Work together."
Your (colored) gaze snaps up to look at Rocky's tense form. Ryland stares down at the sampler on the lab table. Neither of you says anything. Rocky was right. There was no need to fight. Now, more than ever, you needed to be on the same team.
Swallowing your pride, you take a wobbly step back and spin on your heel. There's a round stool mounted to the floor a few paces away, and you quietly make your way over there with slightly jolted movements.
You sit and watch Ryland work. It's silent in the lab, other than the noises of the tools and gases releasing in the contraptions Ryland works with. After a few quiet minutes, you look away and over to another part of the lab, lost in thought.
It's when you unknowingly look away that Ryland messes up. It's not on purpose or anything drastic. His hands are decorated with blue latex gloves, like always. But, as he reaches to get the sample slide, his bare wrist accidentally touches part of the sampler.
Unknowingly, his skin comes into contact with the life forms from Adrian. Nothing immediately happens, there's no burn, or anything like that. It happens and the moment passes. He's waiting for you to say something about his technique being off, but it doesn't come.
Because when Ryland glances over at you, you aren't even paying attention to him anymore. You're lost deep in thought, and Ryland doesn't feel like engaging in conversation when he's got important things to look at.
Like seeing if there's life on this slide.
Ryland moves over to one of the several microscopes fastened to the lab's tables. With a deep breath, he mumbles, "Here we go," and looks down through the optics. He's quiet for a while as he focuses the scope, using the fine adjustment wheels to find the correct depth of field.
It's then his heart stops and his breathing stills.
Rocky senses the change and asks, "Grace, question?" Your attention is immediately grabbed, then, and your eyes snap over to look at Ryland's frozen form.
"There's life!"
That single exclamation leads to a wild next couple of hours.
You and Ryland both start designing experiments to figure out how best to isolate the Taumoeba. For once, the two of you work together quite well making and brainstorming protocols and equipment needed. Rocky, of course, is a huge help.
But you're starting to slow down, and Rocky knows it. "L/n, how long since last sleep, question?" He asks with a tilt of his carapace. Ryland is full steam ahead like he's gotten a second wind. You can't blame him. The prospect of actually saving billions of life forms both back on Earth and on Erid makes you want to push through, too.
Your injury has slowed you down, though. Walking on a wounded leg has made you expend more energy than you'd like to admit, and exhaustion weighs on you now. You want to stay up and help. You tell Rocky as such.
"I'm good, Rocky," you say quietly, wiping at your face and pushing some hair out of your eyes. "I can go for a little while longer." The Eridian isn't sure, and he lifts a leg to tap his claw on the xenonite wall. Ryland's gaze snaps up at the sound, and Rocky points over at you.
"How long since L/n last sleep, question?" He asks Ryland. The blonde-haired scientist bites back a smirk. An alien induced bed time. He glances over at you, who gives him a serious, I'm fine kind of a look. Ryland's gaze flashes back up to Rocky and he replies, "31 hours."
Rocky raises and lowers his carapace in what you've come to learn is mild frustration. "You need sleep. Human brain stupid with no sleep." You raise an eyebrow and huff, "Yeah, maybe Grace is. I'm fine, Rocky. Let's work on this next breeder set up."
The blonde-haired scientist's jaw clenches a little at the barb. Yeah, he kind of set himself up for that one. Still, he knows Rocky is right. You did need to rest. You needed to sleep so that by the time he was exhausted, you could take over. There was no time to slack off, but you both needed to be firing on all cylinders. And that means sleeping when needed.
"Rocky's right, Y/n," Ryland says a little softer than normal, and he uses your first name. "You need to sleep. You're more useful when your brain is working. You've slowed down tenfold over the last 30 minutes." He juts his chin toward the dormitory as his hands fiddle with another breeder tank. "Go, me or Rocky will wake you up for the shift change."
You can hear an unusual amount of sincerity in Ryland's voice, and as you glance between him and Rocky, you realize you've been out numbered. Your head lolls down a little toward your chest in defeat and you sigh reluctantly.
You point at both at both of them and grumble, "6 hours. No more than that, okay?" Rocky just releases a quiet trill and Ryland glances over you before giving a silent nod. His fingers twitch over the breeder box he's working on, and he tightens his grip on it to keep them still.
A moment later and you're crawling down the hatch to the dormitory, the motions slow and clumsy due to your leg. The blonde-haired scientist has to force his attention back to work, his leg bouncing slightly on the chair below him.
It's quiet for a few minutes as both Rocky and Ryland work. But Rocky can just tell something is different. Something is bothering Ryland. So he quietly asks, "What is wrong, question? You shake. Everything is fine, question?"
Ryland doesn't lift his gaze from the tank he's working on, but he answers a little quickly, "Yeah, yeah, buddy, I'm fine. I'm just a little anxious to get these tests started. Our savior is right in front of us, you know?"
The Eridian can't argue with that.
Ryland doesn't stop fidgeting, though. He can't. He clears his throat and wipes at his face, pushing his glasses up into his hair for a moment. "You know, what? I- I think I need a moment alone to think about this. I'm going to go up to the cockpit and brainstorm a little more, buddy. You keep working."
Rocky tilts his carapace in slight confusion but he doesn't question Ryland. Human thing, he muses. Instead, the Eridian thrums, "I will work at my bench. Faster. More done down there." Ryland is already pushing off the lab chair when Rocky speaks, and he gives him a thumbs up to acknowledge him.
As Rocky disappears down one of his tunnels and into the dormitory to join you, Ryland makes his way up the ladder and into the cockpit.
He's not really sure what's going on. He feels hot. Way too warm to be considered normal. Maybe it was from all of the effort of running around and making the breeder tanks, but that just doesn't sit right in his brain.
Plus, his jumpsuit feels too tight. It's not even one of Yao's or Ilyukhina's, or even yours. It's his, but it's fitting a little too snug. He feels hot and his cheeks burn with a heat he's not used to. Is he sick? How could he be sick?
On top of that, there's... an ache. An ache that he tries to will away. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten a random hard-on before. Seriously, he was once a teenage boy. He figured it was one of those weird times where the body is so ramped up on emotions - likely the high from finding Earth's and Erid's saviors - that his touch-starved body got a little excited. It's really only a natural reaction and he knows that.
So, he tries to implement his normal methods of making them go away. How he knows they are normal methods? Well... he just knows he had to use them on Earth for some reason. He's not sure why, who, or what would cause his cock to grow hard, but come on. He's a man.
His mind starts on the science experiments he needs to conduct. The engineering of the breeder tanks, controlling the gases going in and out, how to save the different strains he'll breed up.
Before he can stop it, he sees you helping him in his mind. A pain in his ass, sure, but also his only human company. He pictures the few times he's gotten you to smile. Even Rocky had managed to get you to laugh, even if you just rolled your eyes at Ryland's dumb jokes.
His mind drifts from the curve of your smile. He thinks about the lines of your collarbones. He'd seen them once when he accidentally floated in on you changing in 0G. That, naturally, leads him down to the swell of your breasts. The perfect curve and size. He can only imagine how soft and pliable they would be to touch...
Ryland! Dude, what the hell?! His brain screams at him, Knock it off, man! As he lifts a hand from his lap in the pilot's seat to brush some golden curls out of his eyes, it brushes his crotch. It's then he realizes his hard-on has pitched into a full on tent.
A soft whine curls up his throat as he tries to push you out of his mind. But it's odd. It's almost as if a mental block has formed in his brain. The more he tries to not think about you, the more he does. It's like all of his deep, primal instincts and desires written in his DNA latch onto you.
Ryland tries to fight off the thoughts about you with everything he's got. You hate him. He doesn't like you. The two of you are in this awful Adam and Eve situation 12 light years from Earth. He knows he's touch-starved. He knows he hasn't had a good lay in who knows how long.
But the more he fights his brain, the harder it gets to push his imagined image of your bare form out of his head.
Then, Ryland guiltily gives in. Just this once to get this... problem dealt with. It'll be once and done, and I'll just go straight down to the bathroom and clean up after. Y/n should be asleep, so I can handle it. I can do this. He lets his mind fully settle on his fantasy of your naked body.
He pictures your skin sliding against his. How soft you would be underneath him. He wonders what your skin tastes like, how you might sound when he nudges his cock between your thighs. More shyly, he pictures folding you in half underneath him, pulling your legs over his shoulders and putting you into a deep mating press.
That makes him snap out of the haze of his mind for a moment. Hold on, he seems to think. That's not me. I- I would never do that. That's pretty darn involved, and that's not really my style.
Thinking about you underneath him like that only makes his hard-on throb, and it becomes too much to bear. Bashfully, Ryland palms at the tent of his jumpsuit. He groans at the first touch of the material against his sensitive tip, but he quickly clamps his mouth closed.
Rocky can probably see you! And hear you! And come up any moment!
Ryland bites down on his tongue and leans back into the pilot's seat. Then, he works the zipper of his jump suit down with pink cheeks and shame in his movements. His cock is standing at attention and springs free once the zipper is low enough. He chokes down a whimper and gently palms at his length.
He works his hand from base to tip in long, fluid pumps. Pleasure spikes at him in sharp, prickly explosions. It almost hurts. He's never experienced anything like this before, but he doesn't think he likes it. But he knows he wants the ache to go away, so he keeps at it.
Maybe I'm just super sensitive, he thinks as he tries rolling his hips into his hand in search of some kind of release. But no matter what he does, nothing changes.
The blonde-haired scientist's pleasure remains stagnant. It doesn't grow. It doesn't shrink. It remains as a constant, burning ache.
It's then, Ryland realizes. This isn't a normal boner. This isn't a normal reaction to being touch-starved or anything like that. If anything, he should have unraveled faster than he'd care to admit.
No, his brain whispers in defeat. There's only one way to fix this. And you're not going to like it.
You.
He hates it.
There's no way he can look you in the eye right now, let alone form a half-coherent sentence. It feels as if every nerve in his body is tingling, burning with desire. It's not unbearable yet - but it's not going away.
Plus, you're supposed to be sleeping. The last thing Ryland wants to do is wake you up because his boner won't go away. Especially when you don't like him... at all!
But... Ryland's resolve crumbles faster than he wants to admit. All it takes is thinking about you, your smile when he sees it, that darn sparkle in your eyes when things are going right and the science is working.
It makes his cock twitch in his lap. The thick length throbs with want as it threatens to slap up against his abdomen. He grunts and knows that in that moment, something is not right with him.
Something is wrong.
As gently as he can, Ryland grabs his cock in his hand again, an untamed whimper falling from his mouth as he tucks it back into his jumpsuit. The simple touch has his hips rutting up without his control, a small bead of precum leaking from his cock's flushed tip.
Another wave of shame runs through his body as the want to cry wells up in the blonde-haired scientist's throat. Fuck, this is bad. He had once been a horny teenager. That was nothing in comparison to how he feels right now.
Ryland does his best to get his head together with the facts of what he knows despite the haze of desire looming over him. He needs to present you and Rocky with the facts of what was likely going to happen.
So, he carefully wipes his right hand on one of the pant legs of his jumpsuit, the sweat and precum mixing together to stain the material. It makes him cringe internally, and he hopes you don't notice it before he has a chance to explain.
Then, Ryland takes a deep breath and climbs out of the pilot's seat. Immediately, the fabric of the jumpsuit rubs against his sensitive cock, and his hips roll forward to try to relieve the tension in his body. He moans softly but then clamps his jaw shut in frustration.
With an aggravated exhale, Ryland forces himself upright and grits his teeth together. He can do this. It's not going to be pretty, but he will tell it to you and Rocky straight.
He's pretty sure it was his carelessness that got him into this position. It's now his responsibility to try to find a way out of this.
With his goal at the front of his mind, Ryland begins making his way down the rungs of the ladder to the laboratory. It's slow moving at first. Each movement from his legs has the jumpsuit pulling taught and slack against his still-hard cock.
He's still holding it together - just barely.
When Ryland's feet land firmly on the floor of the lab, he takes a shaky, deep breath. His heart is racing faster than before. He's sweating, everywhere. His face, neck, hands, arms, chest, armpits, leg crevices, hell, he could be sweating from his crotch. Everywhere is sweaty.
Ryland knows he's burning up - he doesn't need a mercury thermometer to tell him he's got a fever. He can just tell. On top of that, the skin he can see is flushed pink, verging red in some areas.
Not a good sign.
If that's not enough, his vision is growing a little blurry. His glasses are still on, but his actual eyes are losing the ability to focus properly. Somewhere in him gauging his surroundings, the blonde-haired scientist sees movement.
It's Rocky in one of his tunnels, on the way up from the dormitory. "Grace, question?" Rocky asks tentatively, the musical notes blending together as Ryland tries to quickly decipher them.
"Y-yeah, b-buddy," he stutters out as he almost limps across the laboratory. He has to catch himself on one of the tables as he gets a little lightheaded. A sudden burning sensation crawls up his spine, licking at the back of his neck and threatening to flood his head.
"You are not well," Rocky states - it's not a question this time. "You are leaking, but not from your head. What is wrong, question?" The simple question brings a half-hearted smile to Ryland's face as he manages to croak out, "Y-yeah, I am, buddy. I- I need you to get Y/n. Then I will explain."
Rocky doesn't say anything. He's confused, but he knows he can't help. So, he lowers his carapace slightly and scuttles back down to the dormitory to retrieve you. The moment alone gives Ryland the chance to focus his attention on his breathing, trying to will a deep breath of air into his lungs and out of his mouth to calm his reactive body down.
He shuffles so that both of his palms lie flush against the lab bench, and he leans over it, bracing himself. The cool metal is pleasant to the touch, and a sigh of content floods from his lips. Unfortunately, it's only momentary relief, but it seems better than nothing.
As quickly as the cooling relief came, the burning hot desire in his core increases. A needy whine tears its way out of Ryland's throat, his head lolling forward as tears threaten to burn at the edge of his vision. He snaps his eyes shut in an attempt to help his focus, forcing his brain to think about the cool metal beneath his hands.
Then, he can hear you clambering up the ladder quickly - Rocky must have made it sound pretty important. Shit, shit, shit. Ryland takes a quick breath, trying to slow his racing heart, but it's no use. Especially when he hears your voice just a moment later.
"Grace? What's the deal? I was trying to sleep like you guys told me to but Rocky was saying you aren't doing well- Oh," you cut your grumpy rant off when you set your gaze on your flushed, sweaty crewmate. Immediately, despite your best judgment and slightly disgruntled disposition, you take a few rapid, worried steps toward him.
"Stop!" Ryland cries out when he hears you coming closer. The sound of your voice awakens something deep inside of him. Before he can tell his brain No!, his hips snap forward uncontrollably, and his fingers try to dig into the hard metal under his touch.
You halt at his command, your sleepy, grumpy expression molding into more of a puzzled look as you watch him struggle to still his body. With sleep picking at your brain, it takes you a moment before an embarrassed realization settles over you. The movement.
You bite your tongue as you wait for Ryland to speak again, because you're about to duck away with flushed cheeks of your own.
A ragged gasp escapes Ryland's throat, and his face and neck have flushed red. Sweat dots his skin and mats his blonde curls hanging over his forehead. The sound of his gasp makes your ears perk up instantly, the rough noise unconsciously replaying in the back of your mind.
"S- so," he stutters out to start, keeping his eyes closed as he shuffles to stand more upright. Ryland remains facing the lab bench in an attempt to hide his hard-on. It works for the moment and so he focuses on trying to get his next words out. "The- the Taumoeba or other s-species from the s- sampler have had this effect on me."
Rocky scuttles around one of his tunnels above Ryland as you cock your head to the side in confusion. Ryland continues when neither of you says anything. "I- I was the only, only one who was in direct contact with them or- or the sampler."
"But you had gloves on," you say softly, as if to not make things worse. "I watched you work, you didn't mess anything up." The low timbre of your words instantly makes Ryland whine, the noise out of his control. One of his hands clenches down into a fist and he smacks as gently as he can at the lab table in frustration.
"I did," he manages to growl out, the noise rough and unusual coming from the usually soft-spoken blonde. The admission would have sucked to say either way, and Ryland knows it. Shame hits him. He fucked up and now he's uncontrollably horny because of his mistake.
However, his response just makes your eyes widen. That's not good. I didn't see him mess anything up. It was all textbook technique. Ryland pants, grunts, and then mumbles before all of his control seeps away, "I think, I think I got hit with an aromatic compound or I- I accidentally brushed the sampler on my arm. It's caused... this, this condition."
Before you can stop yourself, your eyes flit over his whole body to analyze his condition.
You can see the sweat dampening his skin and the jumpsuit, the bright yellow color deepening all over his frame in odd patches. The usually comfortable but loose fit is roughly the same, except for one area.
Ryland's hunched-over form makes it harder to tell, but it's undeniable when your gaze lands on it. His cock is hard and standing at attention underneath his jumpsuit. The now obvious tent brings an even fiercer heat to your cheeks. You can't help it. You hadn't been with anyone... you'd been too busy focused on your career and then saving the world.
"It, it won't go away," he sobs out, his head falling forward a few more degrees so his forehead rests against the cool metal of the lab table. His whole form is tense and on edge, and seeing him like this tugs on your heartstrings. But something about this just doesn't make sense.
Confusion draws your brows taut together, and you carefully step closer to Ryland as you mull over his words. Rocky, who has been silent this whole time, is beyond confused, begins scuttling back and forth in his tunnel, trying to make sense of two alien species biology. Humans and whatever species caused this reaction in Ryland.
"Your... condition won't go away?" you ask slowly, your presence now much closer to the blonde-haired scientist. He bites down hard on his tongue as he squeezes his eyes shut. Your body was closer, your voice was closer. He could almost reach out, grab your hips- No! He quickly stops himself.
He needs to finish explaining.
The next sentence he grunts out is hard to understand, but you eventually piece it together. "No, it won't. I- tried. It won't go away. It's... it's not normal. It won't stop unless one of two things happens." You silently look up at Rocky, who has stopped above the two of you, his legs slowly raising and lowering his carapace in thought. The Eridian doesn't say anything.
"One," he hisses through gritted teeth, "It'll end when I cum, but not by my hand." The dirty words falling from Ryland's mouth has your heart fluttering in your chest, your mouth running dry at seeing him so... untamed. He swallows thickly and then grunts out, "Or two, it'll end when the chemicals are fully metabolized by my bloodstream."
Ryland lifts his head and then quickly brings it down on the lab table in a quick smack, a snarl of sexual frustration falling from his lips. A fresh bead of sweat curls down his neck, and you watch it disappear into the crevice of his jumpsuit.
"H-how long until it'll be fully processed?" you ask a little nervously, shuffling on your feet to give your injured leg some reprieve. It takes every ounce of control Ryland has not to open his eyes and look at you - he knows it'll only make it worse. He coughs once and then mumbles darkly, "I- I think its metabolism will take longer than I want it to. I'll die from overheating because of this fever before my body can process it all."
His tone sends warning bells off in your mind, and suddenly the severity of the situation sets in. Rocky finally speaks up, chiming in with an urgent and thoughtful question. "Can we cool Grace, question?" Ryland shakes his head left and right as he groans out, "No, buddy. It's not like your radiator organ. The cooler things are I touch, the more I burn up inside. This isn't a normal fever."
Ryland's words are finalized with a whimper when he flattens his fisted palm against the cool lab table. You rush toward him at the sound of what you think is pain, but you stop a few feet away as you try to assess where to help.
"Ryland," you breathe out his first name as you look at him. Panic threatens to flood over you while you take in his overly turned-on state. What do you do? Another sob pulls from his throat at the sound of your voice being even closer, and you watch his body tense up yet again.
"I- I'm afraid of hurting you," he whimpers out brokenly, "I can barely control myself, Y/n." His voice breaks at the end of his sentence, but then he's heaving in a deep breath. "I've thought of two options," he rushes out, the words slurring together. "Either you lock me in the airlock until this all ends, or-"
Ryland cuts himself off as the other thought swirls in his brain. It makes his aching cock throb - the sensation now painful. The other option sends images of you into his head. He pictures the way your cunt would stretch around his cock as he sinks into you. He can see the way your back would arch in pleasure, your hands reaching for him. He can see the way your breasts would bounce with every thrust from his hips slamming into yours.
Those thoughts prompt more precum to leak from his tip, making the wet patch on the front of his jumpsuit grow bigger. You've grown quiet at his words. The implication of his silence not lost on you.
Either he dies in the airlock of his organs being cooked, or you let him fuck you to give his brain the endorphin release to combat the chemicals being metabolized in his blood.
Your logical mind comes to an obvious conclusion: you're both going to die out here anyway. Be that a microscopic alien induced sex craze, starving to death, Ilyukhina's heroin stash, Yao's gun, or the Nitrogen tanks left by DuBois. It was inevitable.
Your rapidly beating heart comes to another. Help him.
Your train of thought is broken by his needy voice cutting through the quiet air of the ship. "I- I can't force you to do anything," he manages to croak out. "I- I get it if you'd rather put me in the air lock. I- I'd never want to f-force myself onto y-" "It's... okay," you soothe, your tone gentle and sweet as you watch his body almost writhe in pain.
"N-no," he cries, "I c-can't coerce you into, into this. I still could hurt you. I don't - I don't know if I'll be able to control myself if we-" Ryland stops himself as his hips try to roll again. Tears run down his cheeks now, splashing onto the lab table under his head.
"I trust you," is the only thing you can think of to say. Your heart is beating the fastest it ever has, adrenaline shooting through your veins and making your fingers shake with anticipation. You quickly tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and mumble, "I- I've never done this before but..."
As your voice trails off, Ryland swears his grip on reality slides. You'd never had sex? And this would be your first if you let him? Fuck! He lifts his head from the table, his cheeks still wet with tears but with his eyes still clamped closed. "I can't- I can't ask you to do that."
"You don't have to ask," you reply, your left hand reaching out to rest on his right shoulder. At the touch, Ryland lurches closer to you, his body swinging around to face you, his eyes ripping themselves open to stare down at you.
His body works against his brain, making him lean into your personal space. He sets his gaze deep into yours and swallows thickly. He feels like a predator, stalking his prey right before they lunge for the kill. It takes him a second to lean back, a scowl of pain etched on his features as he seethes through gritted teeth, "S-sorry."
He means it for more than just closing the distance - he means it for everything that was potentially about to happen.
"Once I start," he whispers lowly, his blue eyes boring into yours, "I don't think I'll be able to stop. You may-" his voice catches and then he finishes, "Yao's gun-" "It's okay, Ry," you match his soft tone. The tears make his blue eyes glitter, and you can see all sorts of inner turmoil burning in his gaze.
You tilt your head to find Rocky's figure cowering in his tunnel directly above you and Ryland. "What is happening, question?" Rocky asks, the notes an octave lower than normal. He's scared. You offer him a smile and state nervously, "Rocky? We will explain all of this later. For now, try to avoid me and Ryland. Stay up here in the lab or go up to the cockpit. Things may get scary, things... could break, we could both yell or make a lot of noise. No matter what - just stay on your side of the xenonite, okay?"
Rocky dips his carapace in understanding and then asks, "Where will you be, question?" You glance back at Ryland, whose skin is only a few inches from you, the heat pulsing off him in waves. You swallow thickly as you catch his gaze, the intensity of it making a shiver crawl up your spine.
"We'll be in the dormitory," you reply slowly, holding Ryland's gaze level. His hands clench by his sides, and he warns in a low huff, "The second you move away, I- my body is going to chase you. I-I don't think I can stop it."
You offer him an encouraging smile and reply, "I'll just have to run faster than you, then." It makes the darkness in his eyes lighten ever so slightly, and it gives you faith that the Ryland you know is in there.
Then, you move. You retract your arm from his shoulder as you launch backwards as best as you can on your leg, away from the lab table and from Ryland. Just as you move, you see Ryland's eyes grow cold and narrow, and then he lunges. The crystal clear feeling of fear shoots through your nervous system as you wobbly dart toward the ladder, and using it like a fireman's pole, you slide down it to give yourself a small lead.
Ryland is only a few seconds behind you as you make your way toward the mattress on the floor of the ship that you had been sleeping on mere minutes ago. It was detached from the wall so that Rocky would have more room for his workshop. Now, it serves as a soft landing pad as Ryland's hands grab onto your waist from behind you.
His fingers dig into your waist kind of roughly, finding your last rib on each side and pulling you flush against his chest. "I'm so sorry," he croaks out as his hips start rutting against your backside, the wetness on the front of his jumpsuit smearing against the back of yours.
"I said it already," you pant out as the air leaves your lungs, "It's o-kay." Your last word comes out with a hitch as one of Ryland's hands quickly slides from your waist up the front of your abdomen to grab at your left breast. He palms at it, his fingers digging into and toying with the soft flesh as his hips roll against yours, shoving you forward a small step.
A small gasp tears from your throat at the feeling of his cock nestling against your ass and his hand so openly playing with your chest. You mind is spinning. It's trying to process, trying not to blush and shy, trying to plan for what to do next.
Unsure of what to do and to think because he's touching you like this, your hands carefully navigate around his groping at you. Your fingers reach for the top of your jumpsuit, hastily tugging down the zipper with uncalculated yanks as you maneuver around his arm. In doing so, you're trying to give him more access to your skin and body.
You also have to admit, despite being quite nervous and anxious for whatever was about to happen... it was kind of hot seeing your usually reserved and quiet crewmate indulge in his body's desires.
The second you free the front of your torso from the material of your jumpsuit, Ryland's hand dips under the zipper to slide over your skin. The warmth and softness of your body elicits a guttural moan from his lips. At the same time, it brings a an odd heat to your core, swirling in a way you hadn't experienced.
That sound? Was hot. His fingers gravitate to finding your right breast now, wanting to give it the same attention as the other. A pleased whimper escapes him as he praises, "So soft for me." You can't help but softly gasp in response to his touch and his praise. His feverish warm hand sends electricity crackling through your veins and anticipation brewing in your stomach.
He does his best to slow his movements down - his control is dwindling as more and more of your skin is revealed. He needs to prep you. He'll hurt you otherwise. He can't do that. If anything, he at least needs you turned on a little bit.
"I k-know you don't like me," Ryland grunts as he swirls his pointer and middle fingers over your right nipple, both consciously and unconsciously loving the feeling of it rising and pebbling under his ministrations. His touch has your back arching slightly, and you can't deny his touch feels nice. It makes it a bit hard to focus on his words, but you do listen.
"B-but I need to- I need you wet." Ryland groans out the dirty words as his cock catches on the curve of your ass and his hips try to snap. "I need to minimize my chances of hurting y-" "Just keep going," you cut him off with a soft mewl, working slowly to shake your arms out of the sleeves of your jumpsuit.
Ryland doesn't say anymore, but he does force himself to let go of you when he realizes what you're trying to do. The gap between your bodies is just big enough that he can help you peel your arms out of the sleeves, but then he's on you again.
Now, his hands land on the exposed skin of your waist. Seeing and touching your bare skin drives this desire in his mind absolutely wild. The fire coursing through his body has his vision edging with red, with one goal at the front of his mind: breed.
It was never anything he thought he was into before, but he just... wants to now. His subconscious notes the gentle slope of your spine, a mole on your right shoulder blade, and the way your hair rests around your neck. Seeing you like this only heightens that desire.
In an instant, his hands twist you around to face him, and he takes a step forward, one of his thighs parting your legs.
In two swift strides, your feet hit the base of the mattress on the floor. With the pressure of Ryland pushing on you, you gently flop backwards onto it, Ryland tumbling down on top of you. Now free from the confines of the jumpsuit, your bare chest bounces at the force of your back hitting the bed.
And, for the first time, Ryland gets an eyeful of your breasts.
"You're so beautiful," he moans appreciatively as he leans forward, his hips slowing their constant but fruitless thrusting as his mouth latches onto one of your mounds without warning.
His warm lips suckling at your breast and the blonde scruff from his jaw tickling your sensitive skin has you arching up into him, the foreign but pleasant feeling eliciting a sharp gasp from you. Beautiful? Must be the microbe's biochemicals talking. Unsure of what to do with your hands, they eventually find purchase threading through his fluffy blonde locks.
Ryland switches from suckling on the mound to place hot, wet kisses there instead. Slowly, as slow as he can manage with the desire coursing through him, he works his way from one breast through your valley of cleavage to the other. There, he gives your second breast the same treatment as the first. He quickly transitions to swirling his tongue and flicking it over your nipple until it grows under his touch and he can suck on it again with renewed vigor.
Unconsciously, your clothed hips roll up to meet his, and Ryland moans appreciatively against your skin as he grinds his hips downwards. With him on top of you like this, you finally can feel how his body is feverishly warm. It's then you know he needs to be stripped out of his jumpsuit.
"R-Ryland," you manage to pant out, one of your hands moving from the back of his head to softly cup his cheek. He doesn't move for a moment, lost in tasting your skin and soaking up the feeling of your softness underneath him. You don't relent, though, and it takes some effort to pull him up to see look him in the eyes. His blue gaze is almost black with the way his pupils have dilated. It's a wild, frenzied look in his eye, and it makes something deep inside you quiver.
"Your jumpsuit," you probe gently, releasing his face to pointedly tug at the material clinging to the front of his chest. The zipper was already part way down his chest to begin with, but the blonde-haired scientist quickly releases one hand from your waist to tug the soft material down even further.
Then, before you can even process it, he's reaching into the bottom part of his jumpsuit with a broken, rich moan. Your eyes are wide and nervous as you watch him hurriedly pull out his hard, throbbing cock. It slaps up to his abdomen, tall and standing at attention. A wave of panic shoots through you. It's... big.
His cock is swollen to the limit of what his body can handle. The first thing you notice about his cock is that it's long. You don't even want to guess how many inches. A lot. The next thing you notice is the girth of it. The shaft is thick down at the base but gets slightly narrower as it approaches the tip.
There's even an angry vein curling up the right side, and you're sure you could feel his pulse if you touched it. His whole cock curves to the right slightly, the tip a pretty, rosy red that matches the flush on Ryland's cheeks. The tip leaks precum since Ryland had been turned on for so long without a release. Being trapped in his jumpsuit has smeared that precum all over the tip of his cock, casting it in a milky white shadow.
You... can't deny it. His cock is pretty. And it turns you on.
Your throat goes dry as you stare at it while Ryland sighs in relief when it's free from the confines of his jumpsuit. "Ry-Ryland," you stutter out, his eyes snapping open at the sound of your voice. You swallow thickly and cough once as his hips continue their efforts to roll against you, his now exposed cock spreading his precum over the expanse of your bare stomach.
Once you've got his attention, you quietly ask, "Sh-should we fully strip?" The question is laced with an understandable sheepishness, but Ryland doesn't seem to pick up on it. If he was in his right mind, he certainly would, but instead, he just nods and leans forward, his mouth returning to pressing wet kisses along your skin. This time, his lips work higher up, nipping and leaving marks over your collarbones and toward the crevice of your neck.
You can smell his sweat now, and the combination of his mouth teasing your sensitive body and his natural scent flooding your nose has got you turned on. You hardly notice the way his fingers work your jumpsuit down over your hips - you're too busy figuring out how to roll them in time with his.
But then Ryland is grunting an order against your skin. "Kick it off." Before he gives you time to think about it, he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder. He bites down fairly hard, and it makes your back arch off the mattress and your legs shiver with a moan falling from your lips. That little bit of delicious pain is just enough motivation to finish kicking the jumpsuit off, the material landing somewhere on the ground to the side of the mattress.
Now, for the first time in your life, you are stripped bare before a man. Ryland covers you with his larger frame and the skin-on-skin contact of your chests pressed together keeps him from fully viewing your body.
The blonde-haired scientist growls in frustration as his cock catches on the zipper to his jumpsuit, and he sits back from rolling his hips against you. There, you can see almost all of him, and he can see all of you.
As Ryland tugs his arms out of his sleeves, a whine curls up his throat when he sees his precum spread across your bare stomach. Not only that, he sees you.
Your (colored) hair fanned out under your head, bruises and dark marks now lining your neck and chest. Your breasts shift as your chest rises and falls rapidly, your (colored) gaze set on him in nervous anticipation. Then, your stomach is covered in him, leading right down to the mound of hair that hides your cunt.
And Ryland groans at the sight of you spread bare underneath him. His cock seems to agree, twitching against his bare abdomen as he finishes freeing himself from his jumpsuit. He kicks his off just as you did to yours, and then he's hovering over top of you again.
Suddenly, you realize your crewmate is a lot leaner than you gave him credit. His biceps bulge on either side of your head, his pecs are sharply defined, and his torso is laced with some of the finest abdominal muscles you have ever seen.
It makes your cunt clench.
"So, so good for me," he grunts as he slips one thigh between yours, parting your legs. The action has his hips rolling forward as his brain realizes it's about to get the hit of dopamine it wants.
Ryland angles his hips down and catches his cock on your slit. He absolutely growls over the feeling of your arousal gathering in your folds, and he pumps his cocks a few times through them to gather what wetness he can. He's starting to lose control of his movements, though. His body has one goal in mind and it's taking everything in him to fight it off to make sure he doesn't hurt you.
Satisfied that his cock is lubricated, Ryland nudges the tip of it right to the entrance of your cunt. Your hands reach up from where they have been clutching at the sheets underneath you to slide around his neck. You cling to him and find his gaze with a shaky exhale and butterflies brewing in your stomach.
He's already watching you, and you can see remorse and something else dancing in his eyes. Then, as slowly as he can manage, he begins to sink his cock into you an inch at a time. He does it with shallow, manageable thrusts until he's fully seated himself inside of your cunt.
Whimpers and whines and gasps of all sorts fall from your mouth as your body reacts to being stretched out in a way you've never experienced. Your eyes snap closed and your jaw drops wide open in a breathy, soft moan. There's only a slight burn and pinch, which you're distracted from by the sound of Ryland's voice.
"I'm sorry," Ryland whimpers as he tucks his head into the crook in your shoulder, hiding his face from you. He's taking that look on your face to mean you're in pain. He doesn't like that.
You return his whimper with a shake of your head, and as you try to find your ability to speak, you pause. Ryland is shaking above you, and for a moment, you think he's crying again. A moment passes but then you realize - he's trying to hold himself back.
And failing.
His left hand slips from next to your head to hold onto your hip, and once there, his grip is tight. You somehow manage to know it's not as tight as it could be because of his wrapped up injury, but it's still a firm hold. A moment later, you hear him hiss into your shoulder, "Breathe, please."
You do as he says, relaxing your body and easing the burn in your lungs you didn't realize was there. Your thighs simply part wide for him. It's like your brain just knows what to do. Thousands of years of evolution written into your DNA at work. Thankfully, your injured leg rests off to the side and neither of you touches or moves it.
Ryland's cock reminds his brain of its one goal: breed.
As you regain your air after processing the feeling of being stuffed full of Ryland's cock, you manage to gasp out, "I- I thought you'd fuck me like you hate me." You force a deep breath into your lungs and tear your eyes open to look at Ryland in an attempt to gauge his reaction. It's then Ryland's hips start to slide in and out of your cunt on their own accord.
Soft, pleasured noises begin to disperse from your lips as your brain tries to catch up with all of the new feelings it's experiencing. Somehow, in all of the bliss and pleasure and nervousness and excitement, it deciphers what Ryland says next.
"But, but I don't," Ryland grunts into your ear as his cock slides into your cunt with a slow roll of his hips. At that, he effectively loses control of his mind and body.
You don't get the chance to respond to what he says. His hips begin really rolling, slowly gaining speed and accuracy as he thrusts into your cunt.
This feeling is foreign and new and somehow amidst the anxiety, nice? The feeling of Ryland's hand on your hip keeps you still as his hips snap to meet yours. There's a firmness to it that tells you that you won't be released until he's done with you. Right now? You aren't really upset about your position.
It's unexpected, sure, but not... entirely unwelcome.
With each thrust from Ryland, he brings a new spark of pleasure to your body. Noises like you've never made are produced due to his movements and the sounds he's making. Ryland can't even try to hold them back. Grunts, groans, growls. They are deep, untamed, primal sounds that tell you his body is happy with this course of action.
"Ry- oh, Ryland," you breathe out as he picks up speed in your cunt. The sound of skin slapping on skin begins to fill the air, combining with the sounds pulled from deep in both you and Ryland's chests. He groans lowly into the skin of your shoulder. He doesn't dare pick his head up, fearful that looking at you will only make him come more unrestrained.
In holding himself hostage like this, his glasses are fogging up, but it's not like he can tell. His eyes are screwed shut as tightly as he can manage. Your cunt feels incredible to his sensitive, throbbing cock. The soft, velvety feeling of your walls, the welcoming warmth of your core, and the way your cunt seems to take him so perfectly with each thrust.
It's driving him wild.
Ryland's hips only grow rougher and faster as he finds and settles into a hard, brutal pace. This is not what he would want to do for your first time, but he can't stop his body. It wants him to fuck you with everything he's got, and he is helpless to stop it.
Meanwhile, all you can do is slip one hand up and into his blonde curls and hold on with that grip. Your other hand removes itself from his neck to wrap around his back, raking down his skin in time with his thrusts and the moans filling the air.
At some point, your eyes force themselves closed despite wanting to watch what you can. Your jaw has fallen slack, lost in this immense pleasure and the jolts spreading throughout your body. It's furthered when Ryland grunts into your shoulder, "That's it, that's it." The small bit of praise makes your cunt clamp down and a moan of, "Ryyyyyy," slip past your lips.
That noise alone makes Ryland snarl, and his hips slam up harder into yours. "So warm, so wet," he grunts, "You're so tight on my cock, Y/n. You feel so good, gosh, I'm- not gonna-"
You think you might know what he means.
His movements have caused your pleasure to condense deep in your core. It's built with every thrust and every noise Ryland has made. Now, that pleasure is forming into a coil that's steadily growing with each passing second.
"M-me, t-too," you manage to whimper out, your back arching up off the mattress and shoving your chest flush against Ryland's. His hand on your hip slides under your back to hold you against him as his hips continue to work.
There's a slight angle change, and in that, the tip of his cock finds that one spongey spot in your walls that has you seeing stars. "Ryland!" you moan louder yet, your whole body quivering from the strength of his thrusts. The force of his hips makes your breasts bounce, but in being held against him like this, you're left with the delicious friction of your pebbled nipples rubbing against the soft, smooth skin of his chest.
"Fuck," he groans out. "You... You feel so good. So good for me. Sh-shit, Y/n!" You're right there with him, whimpering and mewling out the pleasure he's bringing you. The coil deep in your core builds and builds and builds until you cry out, "'m- 'm- Ryland!"
You cum hard and fast on his cock, writhing underneath him as pleasure explodes throughout your body. Your eyes, snapped closed with bliss, see shooting stars behind your eyelids and you stop breathing.
Your cunt clamps down hard on his cock, and Ryland's hips stutter at the shoot of pleasure that travels up the length of his cock. He forces himself to resume the pace, fucking you through your orgasm both to prolong it for your sake, but also because his isn't that far behind.
Ryland speeds up his hips one more time, pistoning in and out of your sensitive cunt. This new speed sends him barreling toward his own orgasm as he grunts out hoarsely, "Cummin', cummin'!"
Ryland releases a long, strangled groan as he cums deep in your cunt. His cock twitches out thick ropes of seed that paint the walls of your cunt white. It takes no effort for his body to rock you both through his orgasm. His brain is completely gone and his body is running on autopilot determined by the biochemicals floating through his blood.
There's a major sense of relief that floods the blonde-haired scientist. The release he gets from climaxing is not just physical. There's a weight lifted off of him, like in a weird way, it feels like he gets a breath of fresh, spring time air after being stuck in space for 12 light years.
That barrier in his mind that focused on breeding has been satiated.
Rapid, fast pants fall from Ryland's mouth as he sucks in air like he's coming up out of water. His arm holding his body over yours gives in and he crashes down into your chest. It knocks the wind out of you, but at the same time, only adds to the pleasure radiating throughout your body as his hips come to a stop deep in your cunt.
Yet in the haze of Ryland's blissed out mind, he is upset.
He's distraught. He feels like an asshole. His brain is telling him that you only did this to save his life when you should have put him in the airlock. He feels like he disrespected you and went against his core beliefs of treating women right.
On top of that, as he feels his cock twitch and that painful ache in his body dissipate, he realizes he didn't use a condom.
Yeah. He's cursing himself up and down on the inside.
Meanwhile, you're in complete and utter bliss. Ryland's cock is still buried deep inside of you, and honestly? You'd be content if he stayed right there as you come down from your high.
Your brain is working overtime to try to process and understand everything that just happened within the last... however long. That's when something Ryland said in the middle of all of this floats to the front of your mind.
Tentatively, with your voice quiet and unsure, you break the silence. "What... what did you mean by... you don't, uhm, hate me?" You loosen your grip on Ryland's hair, instead gently smoothing over the mussed up golden curls as you wait for his response.
Ryland doesn't even know what to say. How does he explain what's going on in his mind right now? He's getting hit with a wave of exhaustion now, likely an effect from the chemicals emitted from the alien life form, and he's beyond embarrassed and flushed. He simultaneously really wants to stay right where he is, connected to you in this way, but also... he really wants to put clothes on and try to hide himself from you.
Because what if...
He feels your hand smooth over his head and he releases a small puff of air from his lungs. Your second hand slowly slides up Ryland's back, over his shoulder, and to his jaw. Your own heart is picking up speed again with your sudden braveness, but you want to know.
As kindly as you can, you draw Ryland up from your shoulder so that he comes face to face with you. He's expecting to see a look of judgment, a look of anger, a look of disgust.
He finds none of that.
Instead, he only sees an open, willing expression. Maybe even... hopeful?
Ryland's throat grows dry at that look. His heart is beating faster and his breathing grows even more unsteady. He swallows and wets his lips, his eyes darting back and forth between your own.
His mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to backpedal, to cover it up, to say something to hide his mistake. But he can't. And that look from you has his splintered mind giving in and admitting slowly, "I... don't."
Surprise slowly spreads across your face like a can of molasses spilled on a table during winter. Ryland glances down from your eyes and stares straight at your collarbones. He sucks in a breath, shuts his eyes, and sighs, "I... I don't hate you, Y/n. I never have."
You are frozen underneath him. You don't dare speak. You don't dare move. All you can do is listen.
When you don't do anything, Ryland takes it as a sign to keep talking, even though that's literally the last thing he wants to do. "When I woke up from the coma," he murmurs, "All I knew was that I didn't like you. Something about you... just..."
He tears his eyes open and glances around, trying to find the right words. You swipe your thumb over his cheek and that draws his attention back to your face. His brows furrow and he whispers, "You just aggravated me."
You smile a little at that and softly chime in with a huff of, "You aggravated me, too." Ryland mirrors your small smile for a moment before his expression grows serious again. "I didn't... I didn't understand why. There was no reason for me to dislike you like that," he eventually says.
He shuffles onto one of his forearms so he can hold himself above you with less strain on his injury. Ryland's eyes dance over your face as he continues, "You were smart, witty, and a damn good scientist. But you just annoyed me." Somehow the words he says come across in a positive light, and you find them warming your chest and your cheeks.
Ryland settles his gaze on your mouth for a moment as his brows draw together. "After a while," he says, pauses, and then tilts his head and raises a brow, "A long while, after Rocky came on board, I... had a memory come back."
Your eyes grow wider at that. A memory? The two of you had this unspoken agreement where if one of you had a memory, you shared it. Neither of you knew what was happening when you woke up, and one by one, you each got memories. Those memories were missing puzzle pieces to solve and defeat Astrophage. Sharing those memories you individually gained back was a part of that.
Ryland sighs a little sheepishly and nods his head once in your hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I know I should I have told you. But... I didn't think you would believe me or... uhm... like? the memory?"
If he didn't have your interest piqued before, he certainly does now. You raise a brow in question, but again, you don't say anything. Ryland takes another deep breath and admits, "It was... you and me. Back on Earth. Stratt's vat, the original lab she set up for when we first got Astrophage, all of it."
"But," he mumbles, "It wasn't... just you and me. We... weren't like how we are here on the Hail Mary. We... joked...and laughed. You, uhm," he chuckles once and shrugs a shoulder, "You'd punch me in the shoulder if I made a really bad joke or if I quoted The Beatles too many times."
Your mouth curls up into a small, one sided smile as your mind begins to race. You part your lips to interrupt, but Ryland keeps going.
His expression is shy and open, and you can tell he's laying it all out for you. "When we were at Baikonur, your trailer was next to mine, and we'd walk to the lab together every morning," he says softly, "There were mornings where I wanted to reach over and grab your hand. I wanted to know what your skin felt like when it was always hidden under a latex glove."
Ryland's eyes flash up to yours. "I wanted to eat dinner with you in my trailer, or in my quarters on the ship when we were out at sea. I wanted to make you laugh every chance I could get just so I could see you smile when everything in the world was falling apart."
If you thought your heart was beating fast before, it's practically fluttering in your throat now. Your breathing is growing faster and shallower too, and you swallow to try to get your voice to work.
Ryland gives you an unsure smile as he confesses, "I... really, really liked you back on Earth. I mean, I had the world's biggest crush on you. I never did anything about it because we were trying to work on this project and I wasn't ever sure if you liked me back. And, oh, I don't know what the coma did to my brain, but it somehow twisted all of those unrequited feelings into a dislike that I've taken out on you for the last however many months."
"I mean, you had and have every reason to dislike me," he mumbles, his smile dissipating. "Both then and now with what I just put you through." Ryland bashfully shrugs one shoulder and admits, "Even now... I... I still like you."
Your eyes are wide with shock and disbelief at Ryland's confession. You don't even know what to say. All of that? On Earth? Now?
You are speechless.
There's only one thing you can think of to do to clearly communicate what you're feeling.
Using both hands to cup Ryland's face, you lean up off the mattress and capture his mouth in a soft, slow kiss. At first, he tries to pull back and panic over it, but then you slip a hand to the back of his head to keep him close, and Ryland sighs, melting into the kiss.
A soft, pleased hum resonates from Ryland, and he brings his hand not holding him up to cradle the back of your head. Once you feel him soften into the kiss, you allow yourself to enjoy it. The feeling of his lips slotting gently against yours, the tickle of his scruff on your face. Even the taste of his mouth is addicting and you find yourself wanting more.
But your lungs are still trying to get back to equilibrium, and you both pull away from the kiss slowly and at the same time. Ryland is the speechless one now, and you hold his face gently and glance over his features in the same way he had for you.
He's all sorts of confused. His hair is sticking up and out in a million different directions, his brows are taut, and you can practically see the questions forming on his mouth.
"It was never unrequited, Ryland," you whisper softly, "I never hated you. I think whatever happened to you in the coma also happened to me, because I also had the world's biggest crush on you."
Your cheeks burn with a shy warmth as you try to come up with your own words to say. Ryland is a step ahead of you, though, as he always is, and he asks, "But... how? When did you...? You've acted like you've hated me since you woke up!"
Now it's your turn to shrug. "Well, I... had a memory a few nights ago when I was getting ready to sleep and I guess it all made sense to me then."
The two of you stare at each other in disbelief for a few moments in silence. Then, at the same time, you both snort and burst into giggles. The tension in the room releases and you can't help but snicker as you come to terms with what information Ryland's provided you.
He sighs and shakes his head with a dumb, amazed grin. "Wow. To think this whole time we've been at each other throats all because the trip here messed with our brains. Unbelievable." You nod along and chuckle, "Well, I mean, at least we got it figured out? Even if under these conditions?"
Ryland winces a little and remorse fills his face. "I'm really sorry," he rushes, "I was so rough on you but I couldn't stop myself and I didn't want to hurt you-" "Ryland, Ryland," you soothe, again slipping your fingers over the scruff on his cheeks. "It's okay. I don't hurt anywhere. I'm okay."
"Actually," you giggle a little sheepishly, "I, uhm... kind of liked it rough like that?" That makes Ryland's cheeks flush a pretty rosy color. His mouth rapidly opens and closes as he tries to come up with something to say, but he doesn't. You end up giggling again, leaning up to rest your forehead against his.
His fingers gently slip into your (colored) locks and he sighs in happy, embarrassed defeat. He holds you close as you mumble, "And maybe, sometime in the future? We can try this all again when we're both healed up and 100%."
Ryland's brows shoot up in surprise as he echoes, "Try this again?" You blink in surprise but then grow bashful as you try to back track, "Well, well- we're the only two humans for 12 light years, and you know, we just did the deed. And well, if we both like each other, then I thought it wasn't a bad idea? Unless I'm totally reading this wrong-" "No!" He yelps out, tightening his grip on your hair slightly.
"No, no, no, that's not what I meant, I'm sorry," Ryland rushes out. "I just... can't believe all of this. This was never how our first time was supposed to go but here we are, and I... I just want to take care of you the way you deserve."
Your expression softens and you lean into his touch. You nuzzle your nose against his and nod faintly. "No, I know what you mean, Ry. I can't believe it either, and you just blew my mind," you say quietly. "You're... something, Dr. Grace."
Ryland smiles and softens into you again. It takes him a moment to get the courage, but then he whispers against your lips, "I love you, Y/n." Hearing those words makes you smile brighter than the stars surrounding the ship and you whisper back, "I love you, Ryland."
Without hesitating this time, Ryland closes the distance between the two of you and captures your lips for himself.
Mollyyyy!! would you be able to write #22 and Dr. Michael Robby Hottie Robinavitch to satisfy my robby fixation please? heehee âșïž iâm so happy to be reading your robby fics for your celebration so far. hope you made it through the snowstorm okie btw (we got some snow here and thatâs been a killer to get through)!
better than heaven
pairing: dad's best friend!dr. micahel 'robby' robinavitch x female reader
summary: trapped in a cabin with you and your family, robby finally gives in, and loses himself in you.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), unspecified age gap, smut, pwp, dry humping, 'just the tip' trope, piv sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink (with the potential for pregnancy), creampie, cockwarming, big cock, finger sucking, biting, daddy kink, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, begging, teasing, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart), aftercare, happy ending
word count: 4.3k
a/n: thank you so much for the prompt, Mel!! i wanted to write something cozy and filthy with Dr. Robby. i hope it satisfies your fixation because it certainly was very, very fun to write, and it ended up being much longer than i expected as a result đ€ (the snow is melting hereâfinally! and i'm excited for spring to come!) anyway, i hope you enjoy what i came up with, and thanks for playing my blizzard bacchanal game âĄ
blizzard bacchanal masterlist
âWe shouldnât be doing this.â
Robbyâs words were low, tortured and tinged with self-condemnation, uttered into the hollow of your throat while he breathed your sweet scent into his lungs. The statement was a reminder to both of you, but more to himself. It was wrenched from the very depths of his conscience, with the last lick of sense in his whole head.
But you didnât seem to hear him, arching your body beautifully beneath his larger form, pressing your soft, gorgeous tits into his chest. You let out a needy little sound, something between a whine and a whimper, and Robby lost the battle with his desire.
It was hot beneath the blankets, the friction of your still clothed bodies nearly driving Robby mad. He could only watch as you threw your head back into the pillows on the couch, pleasure etched into your pretty face while you rubbed your heated core against his hardening cock.
The position of your head gave him better access to your neck, and he buried his bearded face right in the crook, sucking on your pulse point until you were moaning and writhing more insistently beneath him. He was burning up, but it was a small taste of the hell he was surely going to.
Your hands clutched restlessly at his clothes and your legs opened a little more, allowing his hips to slot perfectly between your plush thighs. Robby thought he might see the afterlife sooner than he intended when the hard ridge of his cock pressed against the delicious heat of your center.
âFuck,â he groaned roughly, kissing his way back to your mouth and capturing your lips with a fierceness he hadnât felt in far too long.Â
The way you softened beneath him, melting into his kiss and dragging his body deeper into the cradle of yours had him losing all sense entirely. You were no longer the off-limits daughter of his best friend, but lust incarnate.Â
Robby knew better than to get lost in you, but you were too perfect, too eager for what he had to give, too ready to be defiled by him.Â
Distantly, Robby knew he needed to be the one to pull away before this went any further. He was older, after all. Though he didnât know how much older than you he was, he knew it was on him to make the reasonable decision. To be the mature one and put a stop to this before either of you said or did something you couldnât take back.Â
But, god help him, when your thighs hooked over his hips, and you used the leverage to grind against his hard cock, Robby couldnât think, let alone come up with any of the litany of reasons to stop himself from giving you what you wanted. Especially if what you wanted was him.Â
âThatâs it, angel, rub that pretty pussy on my cock, take what you need,â Robby murmured in your ear, brushing kisses across your cheek, reveling in the softness of your skin and the scent of your shampoo.
He pressed his hips deeper between your thighs, pure pride blooming in his chest at the way your breath hitched, your pulse thrumming beneath your skin. He could feel your heat through your clothes, and he was greedy for more, but he wouldnât push you for anything you werenât willing to give.
âI needââ your husky whisper cut off in a whine, your hips humping furiously beneath him. Robby choked on a breath, his hips grinding his thick length harder against your cunt through your clothes. âOh god, Robby, I need to feel you against me with nothing in between. Please!âÂ
You were already unwinding your legs from around Robbyâs body. Youâd shoved your pajama shorts down over your hips, and kicked them and your panties off beneath the blankets before he caught up with what you were begging for.Â
âAngel, we shouldnâtâŠâ Robby rumbled, cupping your jaw in his large hand. His warm, dry skin felt especially rough against the softness of your face, and for a moment, Robby was distracted by awe as he stroked his thumb over your cheek.
But then you let out a desperate little whimper and Robbyâs gaze met yours, finding your eyes wide and pleading, tears pooling at the edges as you stared up at him. âPlease, I-I want this so bad.â You shifted restlessly beneath him, your fingers dancing along the edge of his sweatpants, teasing and playful and so desperate in the way they trembled. âPlease, Robby.â
It was the way you said his nameâlike a plea, like a prayerâthat did him in.
âOkay, angel, okay. Iâve got you,â Robby murmured, pushing his sweatpants and boxers down, until his cock was free.Â
In the back of his mind, Robby acknowledged that heâd give you anything you asked, but he couldnât think about how dangerous that would be, not when the tip of his cock brushed against the damp folds of your pussy. All he could think about was you, and how good even that brief bit of contact felt.
Robby closed his eyes and stilled, gathering his resolve around him like armor. It took every ounce of his strength not to press into your tight heat. He knew you could take him, and he knew you would feel divine, but you hadnât asked for that. And he wouldnât give you more than what you asked. He couldnât.Â
So he angled his hips between your thighs and pressed the shaft of his cock deep between your folds. Your eyes went hazy, your soft lips falling open on a helpless moan as you both focused on the feeling of him gently rocking his hips, rubbing his hard length against your pussy, your drooling hole coating him in your slick desire.Â
âFuck, is this what you need, angel? Need my big cock rubbing against your wet cunt, huh?â Robby growled, making the mistake of lifting up enough to look down between your bodies.Â
The room was lit by the blue light of the TV, and there were dark shadows everywhere, but Robby could still see too much. Just past his soft belly, he could see the tip of his cock poking through the top of your folds. He could see the way your hips writhed beneath him, meeting his rocking thrusts with little humping motions of your own.
âOh fuck,â he groaned, hooking one of your thighs over his hips, opening you up wider so he could press deeper against your pussy.Â
You were already drenched, and so warm, so welcoming. It would be so easy to tilt his hips and sink into your tight cuntâŠ
âRobby, fuck, that feels so good,â you moaned, dragging his attention back to your face, which was twisted with pleasure, your skin damp and shining in the dim light of room. You were so gorgeous, you took his breath away, and it took him a moment to realize you were being too loud.
A thread of panic shot down his spine, but he had no desire to pull away or put a stop to this. Instead, Robby lowered himself more fully on top of you, brushing kisses to your cheeks and lips, enjoying the shivers that raced through your body at the roughness of his beard.
âShh, baby, you donât want to wake your dad, do you?â he muttered, looking deep into your eyes as he asked the question.
Since he was watching you closely, Robby saw the moment your eyes went hazy and heavy-liddedâcould feel the way your pussy pulsed against his cock, like your body was enticing him inside, and he bit out a curse.
âShit, angel, does it get you offâthe idea of getting caught?â he demanded, his voice almost a hiss. He stared to pull away, cursing himself because he knew you were dangerous, but that was a step too far, even for him.Â
Before he could move, though, your thighs tightened around his hips and you shook your head quickly. You stared up at him, your eyes two wide pools of desire and uncertainty, and Robby wanted to soothe you immediately. He wanted to drown in your desire.
âNo, no, itâs not that,â you whispered in a rush. But you didnât explain further, only bit your lip and stared at Robbyâs shoulder, like you were ashamed to admit the truth.
âYou can tell me anything, sweetheart,â Robby said, softening his voice and cupping your face in his hand, using his thumb to tug your lip free from your teeth. When you glanced at him, he smiled warmly, watching your shame transform into hope before his eyes.Â
âIt was that wordââdadâ,â you admitted shyly, your eyes darting away then back to Robbyâs, like you couldnât bear to watch his reaction, but also didnât want to miss it. âI-it turned me on, hearing you say it.â
Robbyâs heart nearly stopped in his chest, his cock twitching greedily against your drenched pussy. A possessiveness that wouldâve scared him if heâd been in his right might swept through him, and Robby let himself sink into that feeling, gathering you in his arms as a wicked smile spread across his face.
âOh is that all?â Robby murmured, his tone teasing and exceptionally pleased. âIt turned you on just to hear me say âdadâ?â He dropped a kiss to your mouth, nuzzling your cheek until his beard tickled you enough to make you giggle softly. âDo you want to call me âdadâ, sweetheartâmaybe âdaddyâ?âÂ
âDaddy,â you moaned in response, turning your head and capturing Robbyâs thumb between your lips. You sucked it deep into your mouth, staring up at him with wide, trusting eyes.Â
That was the moment that did him inâthat was the moment he knew you were his, just as much as he was yours.
âDaddy it is,â Robby said gruffly, his cock throbbing between your thighs, unable to hide how much he enjoyed the feeling it gave himâlike he was your whole world. He swallowed thickly, then nodded and pressed a kiss to your cheek, regaining control of himself. âNow be a good girl and rub that sweet pussy all over daddyâs big cock, baby.â
He watched your eyes go hazy again, your mouth falling open around his thumb. Your expression was so blissed out, so open and trusting, and he knew you werenât capable in that moment of what heâd asked.Â
So, like a good daddy, Robby took over. He rocked his hips harder between your thighs, his cock twitching at the soft little âuh uh uhâ sounds that fell from your lips. You were so soft beneath him, your body molding to his, your drenched cunt clinging to his cock shaft.Â
It was depraved how good it felt, and Robby knew he should be castigating himself for everything heâd already done, but he couldnât bring himself toânot when you looked so happy beneath him.Â
Just then, the tip of his cock caught in the opening of your pussy, pressing against your tight entrance before pushing past. Roby nearly went crosseyed from the feel of your hole around the head of his dick, suckling his tip like your pussy was begging him to bury his cock in your body.
Your breath hitched in a soft gasp that had Robby rocketing back to earth, his eyes focusing on your face. He found you with your head lifted off the pillows staring down at where his cock was sliding through your slippery folds. You angled your hips up, making it easy for Robbyâs dick to catch in your hole again, and you both groaned.
âBaby, we canâtâŠâ Robby said, little conviction in his voice even as he tried to get ahead of what he thought you were about to ask for, already knowing he wouldnât deny youâor himself.
âPlease, daddy,â you begged, lifting your gaze to him, your eyes shimmering with tears of need. Robby could feel his resolveâwhat little he hadâcrumbling. âJust the tip.â
At that, Robby ducked his chin to his chest, giving you the sternest look he could muster, and he was rewarded with an impish smile spreading across your beautiful face. Your eyes glimmered with mischief, and you stared up at him without a lick of remorse, spreading your thighs wider while you rocked your hips, coating his cock in your desire.
From the unrepentant look on your face, it was clear you knew exactly what you were doingâRobby was absolutely certain that you knew your request would turn into him buried balls-deep in your hot cuntâbut neither of you cared enough to stop.Â
As far as Robby was concerned, the whole night, ever since everyone else had gone to bed and left him alone with you, was like a train careening off its tracks. You were the only one capable of putting an end to it, but Robby knew you wouldnât, since you were the one who instigated everything thatâd happened in the first place.
Youâd been the one to snuggle up to him under the blankets on the couch in the basement of the cabin where heâd been sleeping while he and your family were on a ski vacation. Youâd been the one to insist on laying down, Robbyâs body spooning yours. Youâd been the one to rub your soft ass against his cock until he was hard enough that when you turned over and asked him to kiss you, heâd been unable to do anything else but give in.
And it had all led Robby to this moment, where you were begging him to fuck you with the tip of his cock, knowing it wouldnât end there, and all he could do was give you exactly what youâd asked. He was helpless to your desire, unable to stop himself from giving youâand himselfâwhat you wanted.
âPle-ease, daddy,â you whimpered, your voice breaking as a tear slipped down your cheek.Â
Your impish smile had melted away, replaced by an unadulterated need so exquisite, Robby felt his cock throb in response. He brushed your tear away, enchanted by the sight of you begging, and your lip pushed out into a perfect pout.
âI need your cock, daddy. I need it.â
You writhed restlessly beneath Robby, humping his cock until the tip notched at your entrance again. Robbyâs body tensed, but the inevitability of what was about to happen was a reassurance.Â
He gave himself over to the idea that this was always going to happen. Heâd wanted you since the moment heâd first set eyes on you, when heâd arrived at the cabin. He didnât know it at the time, but youâd wanted him just as long, gathering the courage to make the move he never would.
The fact that you were snowed in together, that mother nature herself had pushed you two closer, had Robby forgetting all the reasons he shouldnât fuck youâyou were so much younger, you were his best friendâs daughter. You were too perfect.Â
You were unavoidable, you were destiny.Â
âJust the tip, angel,â Robby said, reminding himself just as much as you. He pushed up on one hand, the other gripping your soft thigh and holding you open for him. He pressed the head of his dick against your entrance, but you were so tight, he met resistence. âLet me in, sweetheart.â
You whimpered and whined, and Robby felt you soften beneath him. The tip of his cock slipped inside your velvety heat, and his hips stuttered to a stop. His low, rumbling groan mixed with the sound of your soft, breathy moan, both of you reveling at the feeling of him inside youâthe heat, the desire, the perfect way you fit together.
âAgain, daddy,â you begged, your voice breathless, your eyes glittering with lust when Robby caught your gaze.Â
He nodded, pulling his hips back until his cock slid out of your hole. Then he pushed forward again, inexorably slower, indulging in the way your body yielded to him, your slick hole swallowing the head of his dick like a greedy cocksleeve.
âOh fuck, baby, youâre taking me so well,â Robby rumbled, pulling out and pushing in again, watching the head of his big dick disappear inside your tight pussy. âYou want more, sweetheart? Want more of daddyâs cock in this perfect cunt?â
âYe-es,â you moaned, arching up off the couch and trying to bear down on his cock. Robbyâs hand on your thigh held you down, and he tsked at you.
âDaddyâs in charge, sweetheart,â he said, clicking his tongue and enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him. He had to stop the grin that wanted to spread across his face. He gave you a stern look down the line of his nose. âBe a good girl and take what I give you.â
âIf Iâm good, will you fill me up all the way, daddy?â you asked in a low, breathy voice that did something to Robbyâs gut, making it twist with a desire so acute, he thought he might cum right there, with only the tip of his cock inside your pussy.Â
âMaybe, baby,â he sing-songed, bending down to brush a kiss to your lips. He used the distraction to thrust deeper into your cunt, swallowing your gasp and moan. He let his smile bloom against your mouth when you clutched him closer, like you couldnât bear to have any space between you.
For the next few minutes, Robby worked you open with his cock, taking the time to make sure your tight hole was stretched to accomodate his thick girth and you werenât in any pain or discomfort. If anything, you begged and whined for more before he knew you were ready, and he would shush you with a kiss or stern words until you submitted to his authority.
When Robby finally pushed all the way into your tight cunt, feeling his balls press against your ass as he bottomed out in your dripping hole, a half-feral groan tore from his mouth. He ducked his head, muffling the sound against your neck, and pressed you deep into the couch, covering you with his weight.
You moaned sweetly in Robbyâs ear, wrapping your bare legs around his waist while your arms circled his shoulders, holding him tight against your body. Your fingers carded through his hair, nails raking lightly over his scalp and he groaned yet again, his hips thrusting on reflex at how good you felt surrounding him.
You were perfect. So tight and wet and warm. You felt like heaven around his cock, and Robby knew, all over again, that you were his unavoidable destiny. You were meant to be his, and in that moment, he vowed he would spend the rest of his life making sure he was deserving of you.
âYou feel so good inside me, daddy,â you whispered against Robbyâs scruffy cheek, pleasure dripping like sweet honey from your voice. âKnew you would,â you babbled, words spilling from your lips almost like you couldnât help them. âKnew your big daddy cock would fill up my tight little cunt so perfectlyâlike I was made for you.â
âFuck. Fuck, angel,â Robby growled, pulling back as far as your legs circling his body allowedâwhich wasnât very far at allâbefore slamming inside you again, the tip of his cock hitting a spot that made you gasp. âDonât say shit like that when Iâm fucking you raw, or Iâll cum inside you.â
âDo it,â you gasped excitedly, a shiver of delight making your body tremble in his arms. âCum inside me.â You pressed your lips against Robbyâs ear, your words crisp and clear and so sweet he thought theyâd be the death of him. âIâm not on birth controlâknock me up, daddy.â
For a brief moment, Robby blacked out. And then all he saw was you.Â
You, splayed out on your back while he fucked his cum into your pussy, shoving it deep into your womb to make sure it would take. You, with your belly rounding from his seed, growing his baby in your body. You, curled up in his arms, one of his hands on your big belly while his mouth suckled on your nipple, drinking your milk that would feed his baby.Â
You, holding his child in your arms while he held you in his. You, as his family, his whole world. His destiny. His.
God would have to forgive Robby for what he was about to do, because he couldnât help himself. Not when it came to you, not when it came to the chance of breeding his baby into you. Not when it came to the undeniable need he felt to make you his forever.
In that moment, Robby made peace with the fact that he was going to hellâbecause being with you was better than heavenâand he gave himself over to instinct, digging his arms beneath your body and holding you caged against his chest while he pounded into you.Â
He fucked your tight, slick cunt with a fury and intent heâd never felt in all his five decades on earth. All he could do was drive deeper and deeper into your clasping body, fucking you with the sole purpose of knocking you up and making you his.
âYou want my baby, baby?â Robby growled against your cheek, teeth pressing into your jaw with a teasing bite that had your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He let out a rough sound of pleasure and kept going, emboldened by the way your body yielded to his. âYou want me to breed your tight cunt and fill you with my seed until it takes, huh?â Â
âYes, daddy, yes,â you cried softly, clinging to him with a desperation that had Robbyâs heart pounding harder, beating a selfish, staccato rhythm. âBreed me, daddyâI want your baby. I want you to knock me up. Make me a mommyâmake me yours.â
The possessive beast in Robby roared its pleasure, and he grabbed your ass in one of his big hands. Holding you tight against his body, he ground into your cunt, the tip of his dick pressing against that magical spot inside you while the base of him rubbed mercilessly against your clit.Â
âCum on daddyâs cock, angel,â he urged, pressing his forehead to yours, watching pleasure wash over your pretty face. âBe a good girl and let me feel your perfect pussy sucking on my cock, and then Iâll fill you upâmake you my perfect little cumdump and breed a baby into you.â
âDaddy!âÂ
Your high-pitched cry was cut off when Robby slanted his mouth to yours, swallowing your sounds of pleasure as you came apart on his cock. He could feel your body go taut beneath him, your cunt clenching down so hard on his shaft, he saw stars, and then you were coming.
He grunted into your mouth, fucking you hard through your release, and it wasnât long before he was following after. He pressed deep into your cunt, the tip of his cock ramming right against your cervix so he could spill directly into your unprotected womb.
That thought had Robby coming even harder, the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy milking every drop of cum from his balls. His chest heaved as he tried to suck in enough air so he didnât pass out, and he pressed his face into your neck, huffing your scent deep into his lungs. You smelled like sweet sex, and sweatâand a little bit like him.Â
You both came down gradually, Robby collapsing on top of you and half-crushing you into the couch. You didnât mind, though, keeping your legs locked around his waist, your fingers carding through his hair and beard as you made soft sounds of contentment.Â
Eventually, he tried to pull away, but your legs tightened around him. You let out a little sound of protest and when he pulled back to see your face, you were pouting up at him, something like betrayal and uncertainty in your eyes.
âSweetheart, this canât be comfortable,â Robby rumbled, gently cupping your face and smoothing his thumb over the corner of your mouth to wipe away your frown. You turned your head and pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb, making his cock twitch weakly in your pussy.
âJust a little bit longer,â you pleaded, giving him your wide-eyed look. âPlease, daddy. I like being close to you.â
Robby felt his cock leak a little bit more cum, and he groaned, settling his weight on his forearms, braced on either side of your head and capturing your lips in a kiss. âA few more minutes,â he murmured indulgently, shifting so his hands could take turns massaging your thighs and hips.
It was more than a few minutes later when Robby finally disentangled himself from your body. He quickly righted himself, pulling up his sweatpants and boxers, then helped you redress, pressing kisses to your skin anywhere he could reachâyour thighs, your belly, your neck.Â
Before he could get lost in you all over again, he walked you up to your room, careful not to wake anyone else in the cabin.
You didnât ask him to stay in your bed with you, and Robby was relieved. You both knew the situation with your father would need to be handled much more delicately than him discovering his best friend in your bed. Especially when you all were snowed in at a remote cabin in the mountains.Â
How and when youâd break your newfound relationship to your father was a discussion for another time. For the night, Robby tucked you into your bed, giving you a slow, sweet kiss before he retreated back to the bastement and the couch where heâd been sleeping.Â
The blankets still smelled like youâlike your shampoo and your cumâand Robby found himself aching to have you in his arms. He fell asleep and dreamed of you, looking forward to the future, and the family, the two of you would build together.
thanks for reading!! reblogs and comments are appreciated âĄâĄ
The first time you call him daddy, itâs a playful joke. He doesnât take it as one though. A shadow passes over his face, and the mood in the room shifts. Next thing you know he has you bent over the kitchen counter, your hands pressed into the hard granite, the cold edge digging into your stomach every time he pounds into you from behind. His fingers are tangled in your hair to stop the forward momentum so his cock can hit your sweet spot at just the right angle.Â
The second time you say it, itâs deliberate. You want to rile him up. Heâs fucking you into the mattress as youâre face down, and youâre positive your streaked mascara is going to leave a stain on the pillowcase.Â
âOh g-god D-daddy pleaseâŠâÂ
Robby growls in response like youâve set something off in him again. The tempo of his thrusts becomes almost animalistic, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing the room.
Afterward he swears youâre going to drive him insane.Â
The third time takes you by surprise. Bouncing up and down on his dick while youâre in the lotus position, your legs wrapped around his hips and your arms above his broad shoulders. Your foreheads are pressed together, drawing in each otherâs fogged breath. Youâve come three times now, and Robby is shooting for a fourth.Â
âRobby, I canât-tâŠâ you sob.Â
âYeah you can, I know you fucking can.â He bounces you harder on his lap. He tilts his chin up, leveling with you. âDonât you want to be a good girl for Daddy?âÂ
The first time you call him daddy, itâs a playful joke. He doesnât take it as one though. A shadow passes over his face, and the mood in the room shifts. Next thing you know he has you bent over the kitchen counter, your hands pressed into the hard granite, the cold edge digging into your stomach every time he pounds into you from behind. His fingers are tangled in your hair to stop the forward momentum so his cock can hit your sweet spot at just the right angle.Â
The second time you say it, itâs deliberate. You want to rile him up. Heâs fucking you into the mattress as youâre face down, and youâre positive your streaked mascara is going to leave a stain on the pillowcase.Â
âOh g-god D-daddy pleaseâŠâÂ
Robby growls in response like youâve set something off in him again. The tempo of his thrusts becomes almost animalistic, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing the room.
Afterward he swears youâre going to drive him insane.Â
The third time takes you by surprise. Bouncing up and down on his dick while youâre in the lotus position, your legs wrapped around his hips and your arms above his broad shoulders. Your foreheads are pressed together, drawing in each otherâs fogged breath. Youâve come three times now, and Robby is shooting for a fourth.Â
âRobby, I canât-tâŠâ you sob.Â
âYeah you can, I know you fucking can.â He bounces you harder on his lap. He tilts his chin up, leveling with you. âDonât you want to be a good girl for Daddy?âÂ
It is not x reader if you describe the readers fucking key features.
âAs he gazed into your blue eyesâŠâ I have brown eyes.
âYouâre pale porcelain skin.â Iâm black
âYour hair was a mess but you were late so you put it in a messy bun and ran out the house.â I have short ass dread locs.
Genuinely Iâm getting sick of this shit. Itâs sad that POC creators have to make their own fanfics and specify itâs only for POC because anything else uses specific attributes that usually only a white person could have. Itâs such a fucking turn off to read a good fucking story and then for some reason the author has to fuck it up by adding âyour silky hair.â Like wtf is happening? If you have a person in mind then you can make it a character x oc thatâs okay! But it is NOT x reader when youâre literally turning us into something thatâs not even us. Like do some of yall not realize white peoples are not the only ones reading this shit? Ik many ppl have addressed this but some ppl rlly arenât changing and itâs just so odd to me. If u want to specify how the âreaderâ looks. Do everyone a favor and just say itâs an OC thereâs nothing wrong with that. Itâs not fair to people. And itâs not even just about POC. Just in general. Like imagine a brunette reading that shit and it says âyour beautiful blonde hairâ like???? Itâs not fair, itâs just weird. Itâs not x reader, itâs x oc and seriously thatâs okay!
Itâs all in the way that girl/boys shirts are made.
Girls shirts have less armpit room then boyâs do and are generally shorter so pulling it off over your head is more practical because by lifting your arms all the way up you make enough room for the sleeves to just slip off.
Boys shirts have more room and are generally longer so it is easy to slip them off over your head.
but if you take a girls shirt off like a boys shirt you will get your arms caught because there isnât much armpit space.
and if you take a boys shirt off like a girls shit you will still have your head in it when youâve lifted your arms all the way up because of the shirtâs length.
It has nothing to do with us. It is entirely to do with how our shirts are made. I figured it out for you. YOUâRE WELCOME!
summary: the Creature (Adam) gets curious about his physical feelings towards you, so you teach him.
word count: 2.6k
warnings: unprotected piv, cowgirl, pwp, cockwarming. this is basically the Creature's first time. idk i love him
A/N: I wrote this drunk last night & with no real plot in mind, just consumed by Frankenstein (2025). first fic in like 2 years, hope you enjoyâ€ïž
gif: @headph0neson
There is hesitation percolating through his mechanical movements; his eyes betray his restlessness the most, even as they rest comfortably on your figure. You approach him, carefully studying his expression, and it becomes clearer with each passing second and each removed inch between the two of you that something resides on his mind.
âAre you alright?â you canât help but ask.
He looks as if heâs about to nod, but then changes his mind at the very last second and shakes his head ever so slightly. His eyes are still on your figure, once in a while falling upon your mouth. You draw in a sharp breath.
âWhatâs the matter?â
âWhen you kissed me, the other day⊠I feltâsomething.â
You try not to chuckle, despite feeling flushed already. âI should hope so.â
Adam smilesâyes, the both of you settled on the name Adam as it carried a certain appeal to him. It was his very own name, something of his own, distinguishable from his dreadful past.
Oh, how you adored his smile.
âNo,â he clarifies, still smiling. âSomething⊠more.â
The way he struggles to say the word âmoreâ, as if it is something shameful, it pains me in a certain way. Although the more you look at him, the more you come to realize that it most likely comes from a place of curiosity instead of shame.
And then you start to realize what he means.
âOh,â is all you can get out, feeling more flushed this time around. Truth is, that more has been something heavy on your mind as wellâfor quite some time. You didnât want to broach the subject with Adam, fully aware that it is a foreign concept to him and that it is, perhaps, something out of his comfort zone and out of his line of interest.
It seems as if you were wrong.
âWhat did you feel?â you ask, taking his hands into yours.
âI felt⊠a twitch. Downâdown here. When you kissed me, something ached. A need... of some kind.â
You donât know how to react more than a playful chuckle, suppressedâyou wouldnât want Adam to feel ashamed in any way or to have him believe you would mock him in any way. But you also cannot help the flood of heat and desire that races through you, coursing shamelessly through your bloodstream. Adam is unlike any other man youâve ever met; granted, the may not be quite human, not quite man, but everything about him is so curious and kind and untainted.
Yet you long to for a stain in his purity, something akin to pure hunger that you can call your own. To claim him as your own.
âThat is normal,â you breathe towards him, your pulse an erratic beat behind your ribcage.
âIt is?â
âYes. When you care for someone, and when you⊠develop feelings for them⊠it manifests physically.â
âPhysically?â
You subdue a chuckle yet again; everything about him is new and enticing and enthralling, and you want to savor this moment, cherish it, preserve it and freeze it in time.
A moment where there is only you and him, together, and not a single threat posed to either one of you.
You nod. âYes, physically. The body sometimes responds before the mindâat least, in menâs cases.â
âBut I am not truly a man.â
âYou are more man than anyone Iâve ever encountered.â
You cup his cheeks, Adam exhaling restlessly inside your palm. Youâre not quite sure when it all escalates or how; all you know is that Adam radiates enough warmth for you to tiptoe and press a sincere kiss on his lips, pulling him closer. Heâs shockingly vocal, but you suppose it makes sense given how everything is anew to him. Thatâs how he treats you as well: a blank canvas waiting to be explored, filled with colors you wouldnât have even dreamt of.
The more you kiss Adam and hold him against your body, the more you feel what he told you about; heâs rock hard at this point, and while youâre quite surprised that all of his bodily functions are intact and normal, you still moan in his mouth.
Which acts as a catalyst for him to evoke the same sounds, more guttural by nature, and end up atop of you. Heâs eager, yet restrained; the same restrained curiosity youâve grown accustomed to. Heâs not wearing many clothes, which works in your favor as you work to undress him hastily, all the while with Adam huffing next to your ear, his shock at the sight of you never wavering.
âYou are breathtaking,â he tells you, and you shudder at the sound of his voice, the thought of him admiring you so thusly.
You believe him; there is nothing in this world that would make you not believe Adam. You kiss him everywhere, not just his lips, hoping to get a rise out of him as soon as possible: his neck, his collarbones, his arms, all of which are, admittedly, uncharted territory to him, but upon hearing his groans, increasingly more desperate, you figure youâre doing something right. You take it upon yourself to remove your own clothes, albeit your dress proving to be a challenge in and of itself. But haste has its perks, for you move faster than you ever have with the fabric, including undergarments, and soon youâre left bare before Adam, aching and pleading silently with a single lustful glare at him. Your eyes drop fleetingly to his manhood and you gulp, utterly flattered to notice that he is hard and surely aching by this point.
âHow are you feeling?â you ask him.
âItâs strange.â
âWhat is?â
âAll of this⊠desire.â
You fleetingly smile, your legs spreading open further for him. His gaze drops, swallowing harshly.
âHow do you know it is desire?â you ask, half curious, half flirting.
âWhat else can it be when it comes to you?â
You pull him in again and again, kissing him till your lips feel raw and as needy as you feel. Your movements feel rushed as your hands roam freely around his bodyâsurprisingly, heâs never been one to shy away from your touch, regardless of how you proclaim itâand each tug, each caress earns you a moan or a gasp from his side.
âIf it is too much, you should tell me,â you tell him, catching his eyes staring in wonder between your legs.
âIâm not sure⊠what to do. What do I do?â
With a smile, you reach and undo his breeches, keeping your surprise to yourselfâyou figured Victor wouldâve made everything proportional and as beautiful-looking as possible but fucking hell, this was a pleasant surprise.
âDo you trust me?â you ask him.
Adam nods incessantly. âAlways.â
âOkay. Touch me.â
You donât want to overwhelm him, so you take his hand and guide it to your pussy, smiling when you earn a gasp and a surprised face from his side. He caresses you, dragging his fingers through your soaked folds, earning soft gasps from you.
âItâs wet,â Adam remarks.
You chuckle, the sound earnest and pleased. âYes. That happens to women when they desire someone.â
âYou⊠want me?â
He sounds more than shocked; quite trifled and astounded. You nod frantically, by this point dripping with need.
âYes, Adam. Always.â
He takes a while to process your words, but he does so nonetheless. Itâs almost as if your words become law to him, something to tether himself to.Â
âWhat do I do now?â he asks, his voice betraying both curiosity and fear.
âHere.â
You guide your hand to his cock, now fully erect, and he groans as you give it a few strokes and guide it to your entrance. His eyes are fully blown, as if he cannot believe what is happening and what is in front of him as of now.
Adam watches enthralled as you guide him further inside you, a pleasurable moan escaping your mouth as he thrusts inside you. Inch by inch, you swallow him whole it seems.
Fully sheathed inside of you, your mouth remains ajar as you stare longingly at him, unable to suppress the moans escaping past your vocal chords. Your whole body is afire, your face a canvass of your love and appreciation for your beloved Creature, and his face a combination of shock and lust.
âHow does that feel?â you manage to ask him.
It feels like youâre going insane, utterly maddened by his curiosity, his sensitivity and love for you, all of which are undoubtable.
âEthereal,â Adam murmurs, and leans over to press a kiss on your lips and forehead.
His movements remain mechanical. It is clear heâs unsure as to how to proceed, but his eyes, oh his big, wonderful and pure eyes, they remain locked on the movement of his cock between your legs. They seem to be fascinated by the way he fits inside you, and you are no exception to said marvel.
You try to move so that you meet with more of his hips, and you catch Adam by surprise with those motions; he stares in awe, almost aghast, at the sight of his cock thrusting in and out of you, and you moan as he does so. He doesnât pose any questions anymore, he simply watches and follows your sounds, your scent and your movements. Soon he catches the drift, especially after one of your hands sinks its nails deep into his back and pulls him forward.
Thank goodness he feels little to no pain from this.
You mean to inflict no pain, you simply wish to sink into him, to have him and own him in primal ways, in caring and loving ways, those of which have not been taught to him by his creator. You both move together in a set rhythm, albeit stunted by it being a first time, with Adamâs eyes alternating between your face and your glistening pussy.
âIs thisâgood?â he asks, his face dangerously close to yours.
âYesâoh gods, yes⊠so⊠so goodâŠâ
Words fail you in this moment of need, but you do not need them it seems. Your hands roam aimlessly on his back, the staccato rhythm of his hips more than a distraction or a wantâa necessity; an insatiable craving, a hunger to be held, one you are more than certain Adam shares it as well.
You are very much aware of how touch-starved he is, and in so many ways, you reciprocate the sentiment. But Adamâs curiosity and lack of experience make him the perfect lover. It causes a stir inside of you, a storm brewing all too dangerously to the surface and an ache you found only he can soothe.
You feel him tense above you, a clumsiness about him that is more than endearing. He watches your every move, listens to every sound you make, in awe of how tender and warm you are, how malleable and willing in his presence.
A fact which will never not surprise him.
âAdam, wait,â you breathe, cupping his cheek.
On command, Adam halts all movements, blinking inquisitively at you.
âHave I hurt you?â he asks.
You feel a tug in your chest, eyes a little bit teary. By gods, you couldnât stand the thought of someone so utterly soft and attentive by nature.
âNo,â you smile. âYou are wonderful. Do you trust me?â
âWith my life. Endless as it may be. But it only means I get endless lifetimes to learn you.â
Breathless, you rise a little and shift so that now you are the one atop of him. Adam is evidently taken abackâone of the many endearing things about him is how he cannot hide a single emotion he feels for the life of him, endless as it may be, as he put it earlierâand you smile widely at him.
The stretch is glorious; Adamâs giant hands reach to your hips, resting there tentatively. He gazes upon your body as if he were charting a map, studious and careful, his eyes never absent of intensity and admiration.
âMore,â he groans, mouth agape. âPlease.â
And more you give: you start to move up and down slowly, taking every inch of him in a stretch that heats your entire body and causes your head to spin; Adam groans, the sound low and nearly pained from deep within, yet you know by watching him it cannot be that of pain. Adam tries his darnest to remain still on the bed simply because watching you take pleasure from him this way is maddening, but he finds that he cannot do so. He reaches up to meet you halfway, his fingers grazing your cheek. You cling to him, anchoring yourself to his broad shoulders as you keep riding him, and pull him closer. You find his lips in a rushed take, the kiss careless and despairing.
Thereâs a rush throughout your extremities, a wave of heat impossible to contain in your chest. You have never felt a fire like this one, an affection quite as strong as the one you carry for Adam. It stretches beyond the physicalâalthough gods beware, simply feeling his cock buried inside of you so intimately and sweetly is reason enough.
He feels you tense, your movements more rapid and messy. He tries to hold you steadily, but he fails. Just as he had previously failed. And yet he realizes he does not care. He wants to see you break, he wants to see you come undone before him, with him inside of you. Something tells him you can take itâjust as you can take himâand that you want to take it.
âOh fuckâI am so closeââ
He wishes to ask you what you mean, but words fail him. He feels, simultaneously, whole and fractured. He watches your face contort in what he presumes is pleasure, untethered, unashamed and whole, and he feels you quiver around him. You seize, the warmth of your walls clenched all around him, squeezing his cock in a tighter confinement.
And then he breaks.
In this moment, gravity is not what holds him, but rather you. You are all that he sees, all that he smells, craves and wantsâand all that he feels. You are all that he feels as he spills himself inside of you with a roar that shakes the room to its foundation. You are all that he feels when his head drops in the crook of your neck, kissing every inch of skin his lips can trail. You are all that he feels as your hands cradle his head, tender and poisoned with raw need.
When your eyes find his again, they are as soft and as kind as you know them, yet they seem to contain something else as well. Something which you can also identify as of now.
Pleasure.
You barely move now, having felt him twitch and convulse inside you mere moments ago. Neither of you seems eager to break the touch, but you suspect Adam is much less inclined to do so than you.
âCan I stay?â he asks.
âWhat do you mean? Of course you can.â
âI wish to stay like this. For a while longer, inside you. You are warm and welcoming andâŠâ
You cup his cheeks in your hands, your palms feeling the small ridges and indentations of him.
âAnd what?â you ask, kissing his nose.
âMine.â
You smile wider than you have before, now sated and happy. âI am yours. Always.â
àłàŒ summary: After a trip to the bookstore, Adam really wants to get you pregnant
warning(s): MDNI, smut, pregnancy kink, vaginal fingering and sex, no use of y/n
pairing(s): adam frankenstein/you
wc; 9.9k
a/n: gonna be quiet for a bit after this post! i have a few more requests and commissions to write! please enjoy!
Adam has lived for a long time. Twenty-five years to be exact and in that time heâs learned a lot.
For one, he learned to be a farm hand, his appreciation for the wilderness and the beautiful creatures that reside on the fields helping motivate his hardworking disposition. He had the strength and the drive and it helped that the man owning the farm seemed to take no mind in the scars that covered his body. He was given a room, clothes, a job and money.Â
And then he met youâthe farmer's only child. Childâ you were an adult yourself but was the only one the old man had. Now it was the two of you.
Adam fell, and he fell hard.
Your kind nature and confidence is what drew him in. You were not afraid of his scars, not afraid of his pale complexion or the strange way he spoke and moved. He had cemented the idea within his mind that he would be yours and heâd do what he could to make you know that.
He never felt like he was very good with words and his nervous mentality made him clam up whenever you were in the room. Heâd settle for leaving notes to you with dried pressed flowers within your books. He took to making leather bound journalsâ having your old man teach him. He imprinted your name into it, gifting it to you one night and the way your eyes glowed bright with the licking flames of the fireplace had made him come to the realization he never wanted to have a moment without you.
His obsession with you had become most noticeable by your father, who couldnât say he was opposed to the idea of Adam marrying you. Adam was hard working, kind, diligent and most importantly; He treated you well. Your growing collection of wild pressed flowers and books Adam had acquired on their monthly visits to town had increased ten fold and the yearner of a man couldnât have been less subtle in the way he looked at you as if you hung the moon and stars above the sky. Adam truly loved you and your father could see it plainly.
A couple years had passed since this back and forth. Blushing cheeks, whispered words to one another, late night talks in front of the fireplace. You had grown to appreciate and love Adam like no other. No man had been as sweet or handsome as him, nor as respectful. His giant stature became of use to you when youâd tag along to town heâd walk close behind you and no man dared to try their hand at courting you with him around. He felt sort of like a guard dogâ sort of.Â
Yes, you had grown quite fond of the scarred man who took a special interest in caring for your fatherâs sheep.
The descent into romance was gradual, nothing had been confessed just yet but the collection of flowers and leaves had grown to the point where you once asked Adam for another leather bound book.Â
âI keep your gifts in them and Iâm afraid I need another one,â you said with a shy smile. You had offered your last journal given by himâ pages frayed and browned from the dirt attached to the plants. Leaves pointy ends stuck out from the pages like bookmarks and Adam obviously obliged to the request.
When the finished product had been given to you, a beautifully crafted dark brown journal with your initials imprinted and a small indent of the shape of a leaf below it, you gleamed up at him.
âI should kiss you! Thank you!â
He hadnât said a word, the end of his nose reddened and he gave you a simple nod. It wasnât until that night when you opened the book did you see upon the first page Adamâs neat cursive;
For My Beloved
Your relationship had shifted afterwards. Small touches, a simple forehead kiss, hands weaving together. It was unspoken but set in stone nonetheless. Adam was yours and you were his.
Your first passionate night had been in secret. You had to be as quiet as humanly possible when Adam ducked through the door frame to reach your needy form on the bed. Adorning your sheer nightgown, there was little left to his imagination when it came to the beauty of your body. He whispered as best as he could when he embraced you, the growling in his chest rattling your drumming heart.Â
âIâve longed for this,â He admitted, large hands covering the majority of your waist, his thumb pressing into your stomach to hold you down against the bed. He had slotted a large thigh between yours after sliding your nightgown up to expose your lower region. You gave yourself freely that night, breaths weaving together into one, hands fumbled and caressed one another. Your lips had slotted against his blueberry stained ones and you struggled to stay silent when he prodded his fingers between your legs.
The delight of your sweet moan had reached him and Adam had made it his new goal to coax that sound out of you further. One, two, three fingers felt your inner walls that night and he spent the entirety of the night reading your body language like one of the many books in his collection.
The moon waxed and waned as the months passed and your relationship with Adam had only seemed to grow more and more. You never thought it capable that such a love would find you and you never felt like that love could grow indefinitely. Every day you fell harder and harder for this large, stitched together, monster of a man. He had taken very good care of you the next couple years.
Everything had been great until your father fell ill. Old age had gotten the better of him and Adam had become primary caretaker of the land. Adam seldom had any complaints of the workload even if it came to having to do your chores while you cared for your sick father. Pneumonia had been a strong battle and though you thought your father immortal, he succumbed to the sickness.Â
Your fatherâs hand clung to you, boney, brittle hands holding as tightly as he could to yours. Your view of him wobbled and blurry behind the onslaught of tears. Adam stood in the doorway of the bedroom, hidden in shadow but a comforting presence.Â
âYou canât leave me,â You had sobbed into the quilt you had made for him. âPlease donât goâŠâ Your father patted your head with what little strength he had left and through cracked lips, he barely spoke above a whisper.
âAdam will take care of you now.âÂ
Adam stood there with tears rolling down his face, his memories of Victor fresh in his mind.Â
You sat at the edge of the bed, your fatherâs now lifeless hand growing cold into yours. The candle on the bedside melted down to the end of its wick before Adam was finally able to peel you from your fathers side and into bed. You fell asleep into his chest after the strain of your head from shedding so many tears finally made you too exhausted.Â
Years passed then. Adam took over your fatherâs duties. Your father had given you the property to inherit, wishing you and Adam the best of luck with your bright future. Life had been hard after his death, but Adam was ever patient and loving when it came to your wellbeing. Always by your side, gentle and patient on your worst days. Optimistic when you were pessimistic, quiet when you were loud, soft when you were hard. He was the only thing reminding you why you kept on living. Having him had become enough.
You had refused to enter town after your fatherâs passing. Memories of being a child and taking those trips with him had been too great of a burden to dwindle on and you couldnât find it in yourself to go along with Adam. He never fought you on it, accepting your refusal for the time being. But today, Adam didnât feel like backing down.
âI would very much enjoy your company. Wonât you come for me?â Heâs dressed, in his finest brown shirt and coat, hair tied back with a string. He holds a bag over his shoulder, barely fitting through the doorframe of your shared bedroom. Youâre a sad heap on the bed underneath furs and quilts.
âI said no, Adam,â your muffled voice reaches him. He looks at you with sympathy.
âEveryone misses you. All they do when I get there is ask about your wellbeing.â You peek over at him from under the covers.
âAnd? You tell them what?â
Adam lets out a sigh, shifting his weight to the other foot. âI say you are eating well and under my protection. Itâll be good for you to leave the house. Please?â His voice is low, quiet but short. You stare at him for a moment, eyes raking across his tall figure. You can see him nowâ towering above everyone and the sea of people parting to let him through. Always has been your safe haven, right? Surely one trip to town wonât hurt?
You push away the covers then, hair a mess and clothes wrinkled from your bed rotting. Adamâs eyes widen, his blue tinged lips parting at the sight of you. Even in what youâd describe as a horrid state, heâd describe you like an angel who came down from the heavens and hung the sun into the sky for him. He ducks into the room, large steps creaking across the floor boards when two strides bring him to you. You stand by the bed, stripping off your nightgown to replace it with a chemise. His eyes drag across your form, dropping the bag on your bed and taking a seat at the foot of it as you scurried around.
âYouâre really coming with me?â He asks, tone laced with a softness only ever directed towards you. You hum your response, pulling on a simple brown vest and mud stained skirt for the travel. Pulling on your laced boots in quick succession, Adam reaches over and grabs at your skirt when you finish tying the laces. You let out a yelp and fall right into his lap.Â
You brace your hands on his chest, ponytail draping over his shoulder and brushing across your fingertips. You stare at him, your eyes meeting his soft gaze as silence settles between you. Thereâs a pause where you both drop your lashes down to focus on each other's lips before Adam is placing his forefinger and thumb on your chin and drawing you in for a simple kiss. His scarred nose brushes against yours when he parts his lips wider to take a bigger sip of you. His chin slides across yours, hunger very quickly taking over. His fingers draw into the hair at the nape of your neck and urges you closer before speaking against your plush lips.
âIâm really proud of you. You look beautiful.â
You pull away but his embrace is much stronger than you. âYou have to say that.â
Adam hugs you close, dropping his face into your chest and staring up at you through his lashes with a weight of genuine sternness youâve never seen. âNo one makes me have to say or do anything. I do it of my own volition, thank you.â You dare not speak on the matter further and decide itâs smarter to just take his compliment and leave it at that. He smiles at you and quickly wraps both arms around you and falls back onto the bed. With a cry out of his name, you fall against his hard chest with an oof and your forehead bumps against his nose. You feel his laughter in his chest before it even reaches your ears and suddenly youâre being rolled over onto your back.
âHey,â you pound your fists on his forearms that caged you against the quilts. âAll that effort to get me up and you imprison me back to the sheets?â His eyes are sparkling with admiration and a playfulness youâre all too familiar with. He laughs hearty and loud and leans down to plant sweet kisses across your cheeks and jaw.Â
âYouâre too tempting to tease, Iâm afraid,â He whispers, lips drag across a part of your collar he knows you enjoy a little too much. You still, hands coming to his shoulders and gathering the fabric in your fist.
âYou tread on thin ice, AdamâŠâÂ
âLet me plunge into the icy waters then if it means getting a taste of you.â
You giggle and it forms into a soft moan. âYouâre a lunatic.â
âItâs happened before, I can handle the coldâŠespecially for you.â
His hand finds itself under your skirt and between your thighs before youâre moaning his name and drawing towards him chest-to-chest. Adam watches as your face contorts into one of pleasure and the eye contact is mind numbing. His forehead pressing to yours, eye gleaming in the light and his pupils blown out till theyâre so black you can see your reflection in them. Your own screw shut when he touches you just the way you like and heâs drawing you past the edge of complete bliss. Stars burst behind your lids and you grasp his shirt to hold yourself steady as his perfect fingers help you ride out the exhilarating orgasm. Your knees draw together and trap his wrist between your soaken thighs before you collapse into the sheets with a long sigh of satisfaction. As your body rushes blood through your ears and your muscles begin to relax, you look to Adam.Â
Heâs drawing his fingers back, they glisten with your proclamation of desire for him and he gently wipes them over his lip, his tongue swiping across his digits. He looks to you then, content written across his face. âYou are bewitchingâŠâ
You donât let him get too many compliments in, drawing out of bed and fixing your hair again just to drag him out.
The ride to town felt quicker, or perhaps you had forgotten considering Adam disagreed with you when you mentioned it.
âItâs been awhile, I suppose,â You say softly, twiddling a piece of loose thread on your vest. âIâm nervous to see everyone.â You squint your eyes against the brightness of the sky to look over at your partner and driver of the cart. Adam glances at you for a second and gently elbows your arm.
âEveryone will be so pleased. There will be a celebration just for your appearance.â You blush at his words, heâs just too flattering for his own good. The rest of the ride there he has his large hand cradling just above your knee, your cheeks feel warm despite the cold morning breeze.
Adam was exaggerating when he said there would be a celebration because youâve been wandering around the market street for half an hour now and have been stopped by only two people to say hello. You chatted a little, they shared their condolences on your fatherâs passing and even gave you a few trinkets. You felt a little silly, like they only felt pity for you and thatâs what drove them to say hello. The gifts werenât needed.
A few other people had eyed Adam, women pulling their children closer to themselves and muttering something. You grab his hand, weaving your fingers together and he squeezes yours. He heard what they had said, that much was confirmed.
Youâre looking at books together in a new shop that opened up. Adam had grabbed you by the ribbons of your vest and tugged you towards the door. His eyes brightened, the lights reflecting in his eyes as the rows of books surrounded him in a sea of wonder. You follow close behind him, watching as he easily picks the books at the very top of the shelves, people around stare at him, amazed by his height.Â
âThey have the one youâve been looking for,â He says with joy. He brings down a collection of poems by John Keats you had been searching for. Granted, its spine had been bent and the pages were withering slightly but the contents inside were the most desirable. Your eyes brighten and you gently hold your finger tips to his wrist as you both flip through the pages.Â
âHow much?â You whisper.
âDoes not matter,â He says firmly, tucking the book under his arm. âI am getting it for you.â
You begin to protest when you hear your name called. Adamâs already looking over your head at the approaching figure and as you turn around you see a familiar face.
âLouisa?â Your childhood friend comes towards you, dressed in rich attire of emerald green and sapphire ribbons. Her hair is parted and frames her forehead perfectly, the shawl across her shoulders making her seem smaller in stature. She was always beautiful, even as children she was always doted on and pampered. She married into a rich family, that much you knew but you had yet to have met her husband.Â
Just as the thought crossed your mind, a man came into view just behind her. Wearing dapper clothing, colors matching Louisaâs and he held a top hat under his arm. He looks a fool, hair slicked back and his curls in the back frizzed upward in an irreverent way. His eyes bugged out of his face, nose small and pointy like a chickadeeâs beak. You couldnât hide the disgust from your face. Louisa steps forward, arms outstretched and exclaiming your name. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you close and youâre forced to look at her husband over her shoulder.
You notice then a stroller.
You gently pat her back. âItâs good to see you,â you say into her expensive fabric that feels rough on your cheeks.
Your friend holds you close, the breath from her mouth tickling the loose hairs around your ear. âIâm so sorry about your father.â It had been two years at this point and the wound of that day still felt fresh, but still, you held a stern expression. You pat her again in response.
Louisa pulls away and gestures to the man behind her. âMy husband, Claude.â The man named Claude bows, addressing the both of you, he looks nervously to Adam who steps close behind you in turn. He places a hand on your shoulder protectively like he can feel the discomfort radiating off of you.
âThis is Adam,â You say after they stare at the scarred man for a couple seconds. âMyââ
âHusband,â He says firmly, bringing a hand out towards Claude who he grabs and shakes his hand roughly like heâs asserting a sort of superiority. They look quite nervous in his presence.
âAdam has been my rock since father passed,â You look up to him, his eyes immediately soften when they meet yours and his thumb gently rubs across your waist. âI love him dearly.â He smiles, the scars on his face crease and move as the overwhelming look of pure delight spreads across his entire being. Heâs about to say it back when Louisa is interrupting the romantic moment.
She pulls the stroller between you and her, itâs of course matching their emerald clothing. Ivory white ribbons decorate the outside and dangle over the neat floorboards of the book store. You and Adam duck immediately to see what lies inside.
A baby lays ruffled in blankets and silk inside. Eyelashes soft and framing its cheeks. Hands bundled into two cute little fists complete with dimples and a pudginess that reminded you of biscuits. Adamâs eyes widen, his mouth agape.
âYou had a baby,â You exclaim. âOh, Louisa, congrats! Whatâs the name?â
A proud mother, your friend responds, âMargot, her name is Margot. Isnât she just angelic?â Louisa rubs a gloved finger across her childâs cheek, the baby stirs, drawing her fists over where she was just rubbed and groans in her heavy sleep.Â
âVery,â Adam responds first, he crouches by the stroller, large hands coming to sit at the edge of it. Curiosity and wonder light his eyes, his one gleaming at the baby. His lips part to say something but nothing comes out. You swear you see the sparkle of a tear threaten his eyelid. Putting a hand on his back, you rub him gently.
âWould you like to hold her?â Louisa asks lightly. You see the conflict happen for a millisecond when Claude grabs his wifeâs arm and shakes his head gently, eyes widening with fear. You stand tall.
âAdam is very good with the newborns at our farm, especially the lambs. They take a liking to him.â Your lover looks to you, he clearly hadnât seen the exchange you had. âHeâs a delicate man when he needs to be,â Your tone is stern and you look to Claude whose eyes flicker between you and Adam. He recognizes the threat youâve implied.
Louisa lifts Margot from her silk and coos at her as she fusses in her mothers arms. Adam stands back up but still hunches out to make himself smaller. You watch the exchange, Margot being placed into Adamâs arms, her head being cradled by his large, soft hand. She had begun to cry during the movement, but the moment he drew her close to his chest, she calmed. Her tongue poked from between her tiny lips and her hand came over to grab at the fabric of his shirt. Adamâs eyes wetted at the sight and he secures her in his arm.
The sight of him makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter. Such a beautiful sight to see such two innocent souls meet, youâre reminded of the depiction of Jesus holding close to his chest a lamb of pure white. Adamâs entire being seems to glow with a newfound feeling. He looks to you, eyes glassy and lips parting.
âSheâs beautiful,â He looks to Claude and Louisa, âVery angelic,â he says softly. He extends a finger towards her, itâs so large compared to her tiny face but he drags his fingertip ever so gently across her silky cheeks. He pokes her nose, a smile spreading across his face.
Louisa smiles the same and looks over to you. âHe seems most kind and handsome.â
You nod, âHe is. I canât imagine my life without him.â Your childhood friend pulls you into another embrace and you catch a glimpse of Adam and Margot again. Her little hand draws up and her chubby fingers try their best to wrap around his digit. He gasps, a loose strand escapes from his confined hair and dangles above her. He looks up at the three of you.
âSheâs strong,â he remarks.
Louisa walks to him then, her palm pets her daughter's forehead. âShe likes you.âÂ
Adam smiles again, bouncing Margot gently in his arms. He sways his finger thatâs caught in her fist back and forth in a playful manner. Her grips strengthens and he laughs, âShe is most extraordinaryâŠâ You see a spark of recognition in his eyes when he looks down at her and you watch it form into a sadness for a second before he looks to Louisa. He hands Margot gently back to her mother. âThank youâŠyou have a beautiful child.âÂ
You chat for a bit afterwards. Adam stays close to the stroller and occasionally will bring his finger back into view of Margot and she in turn grabs it. His smile is permanent, even as you say farewell and exit the store with your new books in hand.
âIâve never seen a baby,â Adam reveals, guiding you through the sea of people.
âReally? How?â Itâs silly to ask, you know vaguely of his pastâ at least the amount he decided to share with you.Â
âIâve only known forests and back alleys for so long. I donât think Iâve ever found myself in the presence of one until now,â his gate slowed. You turn around and look up at him, a melancholic look wettens his eyes. âShe reminded me so much ofâŠme in a way.â
You cock your head, drawing a hand to his chest to comfort him. âHow so?â
He struggles to answer, biting the inside of his lip as he pieces his thoughts. âHelpless, quiet, strongâŠI see myself in her. The look in her eyes as she took in her surroundings, the lack of communication she has. A part of myself I thought I had forgotten I found in her, I suppose,â His voice cracks and his lips tremble around his words. Your hand palms at his cheek and your thumb caresses the tear that freely escapes.
âAdamâŠâ
âLife is a wonderful thing, is it not? I get to be here with you and experience seeing the beginning of it. I am glad you are with me in these moments,â He cups his hand over yours and turns to kiss your palm.Â
The rest of your day is filled with mostly window shopping and wishing you could afford the nice clothing in the glass windows. Adam purchased a few more books and handed you a ham sandwich wrapped in parchment paper. You both leave, your arm woven around his and holding up your clothing so as not to get even more muddy stains at the end of its hem. Your partner places you into the cart, lifting you with one arm and that familiar desire fills your lower belly. Looking at him longingly as he settles up beside you, you place a quick kiss on his cheek.
âYou want a baby now?â You ask innocently. He side-eyes you with a tinged red nose.Â
âLetâs discuss that later.âÂ
Adam sits at your fathers rocking chair beside the fire with his book in lap. He fingers the page, forefinger and thumb rubbing the paper as he reads the contents in earnest. You both have just finished dinner and you sit on your chair across from him, patching up a hole in his trousers. You watch the way his hair sways with each rock back and forth, one leg draped over the other comfortably. His eyes donât leave the page, flipping it to the next and cocking his chin.
âI can sense you,â he says lowly. You hear the purring rumbling in his chest, those animal parts of him always made you feel so much more attracted to him. The way heâd growl in your ear after taking your earlobe into his mouth. You shudder at the memories.
âI canât have a look at whatâs mine?â You ask boldly. He breaks his eye contact from his book then and looks at you through thick lashes. He smiles.
âYouâre incorrigible.â
âWhat are you reading,â you point your chin, setting down the work. Adam suddenly presses the spine of the book flat into his lap, his mouth turning into a straight line.
âNothing,â he says sternly. âJust doingâŠresearchâŠâ Staring at him for a moment and blinking a few times to let the shock of him talking so harshly settle within, you lean towards him.Â
âYou are hiding something,â you say with a definitive tone, not asking but stating. Adam looks at you briefly, his jaw clenching and moving side to sideâ a trait you quickly picked up to be one of discomfort. âWhy canât I know? I wonât dare to judge you.âÂ
âYou wouldnâtâŠI am justââ he sets his long fingers across the page and pets it flat. His nose grows more red and he ducks his face to his lap. âI am embarrassed to say what it is.âÂ
Your project is forgotten now, setting it gently on the arm rest of your chair and focusing all attention on the man across from you. âMy curiosity only grows now, Adam,â you chuckle to lighten the mood and you catch a glimpse of a smirk from him.
He shakes his head, placing his forehead into his palm. âIt isâŠnot important.â He lifts the book then, showing off its navy blue binding and in big gold letters it says The Male Generative Organs: Anatomy and Conception. He was well more than half way through it, you could tell from across where you sat. The room goes silent all except for the fire crackling and you struggle to find what to say. Adam sets the book back down and releases a huff from his nose. He shuts it beside him and gets up rather abruptly, rubbing his palm across his thigh.
âIt is silly, I knew it. It was inappropriate to tell you andâand to read it in front of you. I am sorry, I will justâ Iâllââ He takes a few steps towards your shared room. After realizing that you also share the space with him, he stops. âI need some privacy, Iâm sorry.â He opens your bedroom door and shuts it behind himself. Youâre left at your chair, speechless and stunned.Â
This isnât the first time heâs asked for privacy, you respect his boundaries and it rarely ever happens. It seems out of character for him to just up and walk away especially over something so trivial to you. You get up, walking slowly to the book and picking it up gently. Opening it revealed notes and pages of diagrams of the human anatomy. Drawings listing the specific parts of each body part and its uses. You glide over the pages quickly, searching for what could have set off Adam like that. Then you reach the chapter titled âThe Manâs Private Use.âÂ
The chapter was detailed in its descriptions about reproduction and the anatomy of the male genitals. A diagram shows the inner workings of the male, complete with a photo beside of it an erect man ready for reproduction as the book so clearly states. The words used are very scientific in nature and most of the words' meanings are lost to you but a few stand out in the way of the descriptions of how to reproduce. You shut the book gently having read enough.Â
Making your way to the bedroom, you knock lightly once with your index finger knuckle. No answer.Â
âAdamâŠmy dear,â You say gently. âThereâs nothing to be ashamed ofâŠitâs part of life. Itâs normal to be curious,â you reason with the door, not sure if heâs even listening on the other side.Â
âIâve wondered about it too. Youâre not alone in this,â Your hand curls against the door into a loose fist and the images of him ravishing your body to the point of conception had always been the wicked thought that plagued you the most. âItâs inappropriate for me to share but I am curious tooâŠyou have been the only one to know the most intimate parts of myself and it is selfish to sayâŠbut I have always wanted you to claim me.â
More silence.Â
âThe fantasies that Iâm burdened withâŠthey are wicked in nature and I dare not say such things out loudâŠbut whatever you have been mulling over aboutâ I assure you, it is the same for me.âÂ
Thereâs a long pause and you swear you can hear his soft purr past the door. One more knock you say, âI will leave you alone now. Forgive me.â You set your hand back to your side but the door is open before it can lower and youâre getting roughly grabbed and pulled into the dark room.
Itâs pitch black, your eyes havenât adjusted to the lack of light but you feel Adam in front of you. His nose drags across the bridge of yours and you can feel his breath on your lips before he slots them into yours and draws you into a tight embrace.
The kiss is nauseating in the best way, his nose smushes into your cheek as he deepens the kiss and you obediently succumb to the swipe of his tongue across your teeth. You open your mouth wider, wrapping arms around his shoulders and he lifts you off the floor and pushes you against the bedroom door. Your tongues tangle together in a slow and languid pace but the hungry need is heavy in the sound of your pants. He pulls away for a second, his voice low and laced with desperation.
âI wish to know every desire that plagues your every waking moment.âÂ
âI think weâd be up all night,â Your lips press into his again, you move a hand to cup his cheek and feel the divots of his stitched skin. Heâs slightly cold to the touchâ a feeling you began to feel a sort of comfort towards during the years together.Â
âLet the sun rise then. I need no sleep tonight.â Your eyes lock then and you see the glare in his eye. Heâs serious, bashedly so. A determination ignites a fire in his eyes and heâs pushing the fabric of your chemise up your leg. With one large hand, he grasps your thigh and forces it around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back for support. Your arms go around his neck again and he expertly walks you to your shared bed.
He slots between your legs, your chemise drawn up to expose your entire lower half but heâs not paying any mind to it yet. Adam looks at you, holding himself up and in the process caging you to the bed. Strands of his beautiful hair has escaped the confines of his hair tie and it acts as blinders for both of you. Just you and him.Â
Adam pets the back of his hand across your cheek, his knuckles drag across your lips before flipping it palm down to capture your lip with his forefinger. You let your mouth naturally open, your bottom teeth slightly exposed.
âThey donât have many books on your anatomy,â he comments. âIâve seen the diagrams. Bellies swollen, the curled child inside the womb. Biggerââ His hand travels down to where your nipples create peaks against the fabric of your clothes. He lets a finger slide across it and doesnât finish his sentenceâinstead starts another. You shudder at the lack of touch.
âI feel filthy,â he admits with a glint in his eye. âPicturing you like thatâŠitâŠit does something wicked to me.âÂ
The air seems to thin, making your heart race and breath quicken. Or maybe itâs the way Adamâs delicate hands travel across your body, his eyes trailing fire behind them. You can tell heâs imagining it now. You, full and big with his child; something he gave you cultivated into this and that possession and passion fueled the fire of his desire to see it come to fruition. He plays with the ribbons that tie your chemise closed.Â
âI have depraved thoughts of this very thing,â You mention, reaching a hand over to hold his forearm. Itâs big and muscular in your palm and just the feeling of his blood pumping through his veins is enough to create that warmth between your legs. You naturally draw your knees together but are met with either side of Adamâs waist. He looks at you with an excitement like a dog would seeing its favorite stick.Â
His fingers close around one ribbon, pulling it slowly as it undoes itself. âPlease,â He begins. The ribbon comes loose and so do his lips, âEnlighten me.â His hand finds the other ribbon and does the same. Your chemise opens up to reveal more of the expanse of your chest. Chest rising and falling, Adam ducks his head to kiss the space between your breasts. Soft lips meet silky skin and you are left to be helpless and devoured by this hopeless romantic of a man.Â
You shudder a breath, laying back into the sheets as he places a few more wet kisses to your chest.Â
âIâŠIt feels immoral for me to voice themâŠâ
âYou cannot admit to me that we share the same desireââ He begins and places his open mouth over the soft fabric right where the peak of the nipple lies underneath. He mouths at it lazily, feeling its shape around his lips before continuing, his voice muffled. âAnd not expose those ravenous thoughts to meâŠâ
You gasp when you feel his teeth take hold of your nipple and pull slightly. Adam releases it quickly and kisses it gently as a silent apology. He looks up at you with encouragement.
âI think about the reproduction process as wellâŠbut mostly about youâŠand how you would do it from the beginning to the very end.â
He gets up onto the palms of his hands, his hair is almost completely free from its confines and he pushes it back behind his ears. He stares at you, his expression hard and eyes full of a greedy hunger you had not seen previous.Â
âAnd how would I begin in this fantasy of yours?âÂ
âYou wouldâŠstart by touching me all overâŠusing your mouth like you just were.â He plays with one of the ribbons undone at your chest before letting his fingertips slide down to toy with one of your nipples.
âLike this?â He acts clueless, teasing you which you find torturous. He concedes, his need overtaking his desire to torment you any further. His tongue lays flat against the soft fabric of your gown and he places his lips over your nipple once more. Itâs warm and the sensation makes your entire body ignite with a fervent need. Adam laps at it slowly, his other fingertips touching your other breast, kneading it in his hand and brushing his fingertips over the sensitive skin.Â
âWhat else?â He asks with his mouth full. You release a sigh, fluttering your eyes closed to revel in the feeling of him on top of you and touching you in such a way.
âYouâdâŠweâd peel our clothes offâŠâ He rises at the suggestion, his focus finally turning to your lower half where your gown now sits above your bellybutton and exposes your nakedness to the cool air.
Adam slides a hand underneath and slowly peels the fabric off of your skin. You arch your back off the bed so as not to let it get caught underneath your weight and he gently folds it and reaches out to set it on your bedside table. So polite, such a gentleman, his thoughts carry the opposite characteristics, though. The moment he sees you exposed and drawing your arms into yourself to hide, something primal takes over him. Heâs here to do what he pulled you in for and by God no one will step in his way. Not even you.Â
He grabs your wrists, caging you underneath him and pinning them on either side of you. A gasp escapes you and youâre only met with a look of sheer determination and an erotic lust.Â
âGo onâŠtell me more.â His tone is less soft and thereâs that growling behind every word that sets your skin ablaze.Â
âIâŠahâŠWellâŠâ Flustered and cheeks turning red, you struggle to find the next words. So much have you thought about and all of it kept only to yourself. It wasnât proper to just out right voice the sexual desires you had for him, especially ones such as conception and pregnancy. It feels unholy to say such words out loud but Adam clearly shares the same desire. It canât be that wicked if the man youâre head over heels for thinks the same things, can it?Â
You find your voice when he lets out a drawn out purr from his chest. âYou would take your clothes off too and you wouldâŠlet me touch youâŠâ The sound of rustling fabric and the jangle of a belt can be heard in the darkness. Your eyes have adjusted well to the darkness since you were pulled inside and now the moonlight shines through the window. It frames Adam perfectly, his skin the same color as the moon's gorgeous rays of light. His scarred skin paints a beautiful picture of all the men who make up him to create the perfect man. The amount of times you traced his skin, making him shiver under your touch comes to the forefront of your mind. He pulls his trousers down, his manhood already half erect. Thereâs little stitches on this particular part of his body, the only one being between his two testicles and circling around at the base of his pelvis. He stands at the foot of the bed now and you quickly slide your way down to the edge. You open your legs and lean up on one elbow and reach out with your free hand and cup him into your palm.
His mouth opens, releasing a choked breath. You palm him where his scar lies, thumb petting across coarse hair before sliding across to feel the weight of him in your hand. Your hand is warm and you see the discoloration of skin grow as more blood focuses its way to his shaft. He hardens in your hand and you see the glint of a clear liquid bead at the head of his manhood. You swipe your thumb over it and bring it to your lips. You lay back down and open your legs wide.
âNowâŠyouâd get me prepared.â
He short circuits, eyes focusing on the beauty that lies between your thighs. âPrepared?â You giggle at his obliviousness and reach once more only this time to grab his wrist. He has to bend a little to properly reach you and you guide his fingers to where youâre already dripping for him. Thereâs a wet sound when he lets two fingers encircle the area and youâre both gasping at the sensation. He looks with curious eyes, scanning across your body with what little light came in and he slowly pushes two fingers inside you.
âYou want this,â he states more than asks, realizing exactly what you meant. âYou areâŠâ He draws his fingers out, leaving just the fingertips inside and gazes upon the sparkling wetness that covers his digits. He thrusts back in, a little harder this time and the feeling of being full of him has you already gripping the sheets. âYou are transcendent,â he speaks in wonderment. His pale skin in the moonlight blurs as the tears of need threaten your vision and you can only lay there and take his thick fingers inside you.
âHow anyone could forget such a beauty as this I do not know,â He begins, guiding his thumb to your clit and swiping across it. âThey are foolish to not wish to know about every part of this.â Talking of science and the female anatomy was usually lost to you for the most part, but to have Adam wishing to know more about your inner workings, to bend to your will and dig into your psyche made you most pliable and release a moan at the unbridled want he displays.Â
He thrusts a few more times and each time you feel his strength increase.
âYes,â you breathe, âlike that, my love. IâŠI need more,â you beg. Adam easily slides a third finger and you feel that burning stretch. You ooze into his palm, his fingers separating and scissoring inside you, feeling the plush walls give around the girth of him and you cry out at the pleasure of it all. You point over to your nightstand then, an urgency in your voice.
âThe drawer,â you swallow, eyes opening to see his clueless expression. âOilâŠbody oilâŠgive it to me, please.âÂ
He has to climb over you to grab the small bottle of oil and he places it in your hand. He pets your labia in the process, feeling your clit flinch under his touch and your legs tremble at each stroke. You pour some into your hand and sit up to reach across from the two of you and wrap around his hard shaft. Adamâs eyes lock with yours then and his mouth opens agape at the sensation. You stare at one another as you slowly draw his skin over his tip and pull it back down in slow, steady strokes.
âYouâre going to push inside me and no matter whatâŠâ He gasps when you squeeze around him. âYou will not pull out.â He nods, understanding clearly and becoming impatient with greed.
He aligns himself, knees back on the bed and you lay back into the covers. You quickly place a large pillow underneath your lower back for leverage and Adam strokes himself a few times. His free hand cups your inner thigh and holds it there as he lines himself up at your entrance.Â
Itâs splitting, the head of his cock pushing slowly. Your body has grown accustomed to his size but it had been awhile since you last connected like thisâ it needs a reminder. He says your name with a gasp, pushing deeper while you quickly pour more oil between the two of you. Your fingers rub at your own clit while he bottoms out and you're connecting hip-to-hip. His coarse hair mixes with yours and you both breath deeply as he lets you adjust to his size.
âThe reproduction processâŠI have toâŠplant my seed inside you,â he says gently, thumb swiping across your soft thigh.Â
âBury it deep inside me, AdamâŠmake me full of you,â your lips loosen and he pulls out as you speak, only to snap his hips back into you. Thereâs a crack of skin together and the bed thrusts into the wall. He sets a slow pace, hair swaying with every thrust and push into you, he braces both hands on your thighs and forces you open. He looks down where he is drilling in and out of you, oil and creamy white mixing together on his manhood and every push in is having you mewling his name. He strives for more, a grunt and growl leaving his mouth, fingernails digging crescents into your pliable skin. He has enough sense in the moment to not go too hard, holding back the strength he has so as not to hurt you but thrust just hard enough that you beg for more.
âAdam,â you reach and grab his forearm, he grunts an acknowledgement, âharderâŠharder, please.âÂ
âHarderâŠâ He ponders out loud, âI donât want to hurt you.âÂ
âHarder,â you demand. âYou need to bury it deep inside me for it to work,â you explain, your tone laced with annoyance. He obeys, his rhythm increasing and the wetness growing inside you. His tip kisses deep inside you, right up to your cervix and it hurts. You groan, hands squeezing his arms. Veins pulse underneath his skin as he lets out an animalistic growl and snaps his hips harshly into yours. The bedframe knocks into the wall and you cry out his name.
With the incessant sound, your moans mixing together with Adamâs pleasuring grunts, itâs all so much and the room grows warm between you two. Heâs pushing your legs, drawing them towards your chest and at this new angle you can feel every vein and texture of his cock. Releasing a begging sound, your toes curl when his tip slides in and out of you. Adam releases a moan, his chest rumbling. He towers over you and presses his weight into yours, folding you completely in half. His tempo never ceases, his heavy balls smack hard into you, strings of needy wetness connecting bridges between your heated core and his hard manhood. Itâs filthy, itâs wicked and God would strike you down at any moment but this complete bliss only leaves your mind wondering about how well heâs driving into you. Youâre so full of him, his thickness splitting you in half and the burn feels too good. Your hands move to grip his shoulders, thereâs a whimper that escapes you and Adam lowers his head to draw his mouth to your ear.
âShhh, itâs all right,â he whispers, his scent and body being the only thing you can see and smell and feel. âYou desired this, did you not?â Every word is emphasized by a hard thrust. You whimper a yes, barely escaping your mouth.Â
âFeels good,â you moan.
âI knowâŠI know it does. I can see it across your face.â His hips press harshly into yours and he pauses for a moment. You clench around him, your hole weeping.Â
âThe imageâŠof you with childâmy childâŠIâŠâ He grips your thighs hard, so hard you almost think his sanity is slipping away and heâs touching into that strength you had only seen a couple times since knowing him. Like when he lifted fatherâs cart full of flour or fought back a pack of wolves from your catch of the day, when he roared and threw one that got much too close to you.Â
âAdamââ You gasp, the wind getting knocked out of you with each push inside you.
âIâd have you at every stage,â he confesses, lips drawing across your jaw. âIâd do just thisâŠpleasure you in this way until you succumb to meâŠand we do it all over again.â The idea of being full of a child and having him inside you, the eroticism of it makes you cry out and you feel that fluttering knot tighten in your lower abdomen.Â
âI feelâŠIâŠâ He begins, choking on his words. You flutter around him, your orgasm threatening to the surface. âRight there,â he moans, a low growl escaping him as he holds himself up, releasing your legs and becoming sloppy with his thrusts. He looks almost angelic like this, body convulsing, hair loose and sticking to his sweaty forehead. His arms, large and muscular brace around you and you take in the view of veins traveling down his navel to the bush of hair. You see where youâre connected, laying your hand flat against your pubic bone.
âRightâŠâ You draw your hand to your lower stomach, âRight thereâŠthatâs where I feel you.â Meeting eyes again, Adamâs jaw locks open, eyes going blank as pure bliss takes over his whole body. He tries to hold it off, he takes pride in always pleasing you well before heâs done himself but just the way your voice sounds in his ears, the way you gestured and told him just how deep he is inside you and the image of you pregnant was enough to make the flood gates open.
He feels it, his entire body tightening and hips snapping once, then twice before he feels his cock flinch. It pulses with each white rope that paints your insides. He lazily thrusts a few times with each release of his passion before heâs gasping for air and apologizing.
âIâm sorryâŠI am so sorry,â He thrusts a few more times, hands moving to grip your inner thighs, âA little longer. I need to use you a little longer, please, grant me this.â He doesnât wait for permission, his overstimulated hard-on slides in and out as he tries to match that earlier rhythm but itâs no use.Â
Adam huffs, losing all breath and pulls out but just as he feels another pulse coming on and he drives into you one last time. He holds your thighs flush against his body as time stills around you. Whooshing sound of the wind through the trees can be heard and your blood rushing through your ears. You have not gotten to utter bliss yourself but this can be enoughâ being full of Adamâs seed.Â
He evens his breathing as he slowly pulls out completely, his manhood still incredibly hard and you see him drip across the sheets. He huffs, palming your inner thigh and it turns into soothing pets. Adam looks at you then, a softness glazing over his dark eyes.
âYou are divinity,â his other hand experimentally lowers to your pubic area. His soft fingers glide over your outer labia and he separates the lips to get a good look. Beaten and puffy, swollen by his selfish desire to bury himself in you.
He sees it then. The white trickling thickly out of your hole. Something comes to the forefront of his mind. Conception only works if the male semen is injected into the uterus.
Adam takes three fingers and immediately plunges them right into youâ plugging you instantly. Your legs try to close, the shock of it driving a yelp out of you and a devilish desire flashes across Adamâs face. He feels his own seed oozing around his fingers and he drives them right into you, the tips of his digits finding their place at your cervix.
âThatâs it,â he says lowly, a purr erupting from his throat. âCanât waste it, can we?âÂ
The feeling is painful, itâs overstimulating and not enough at the same time. The coil inside you tightens and your legs are forced back open.Â
âAdam! My love, please!â Your hand grasps around his wrist holding your leg open. Your thumb digs into his pulse and you feel your heartbeats beating as one.
âHere, touch here, I beg you,â you pull his free hand to your clit. He glances at you as acknowledgment before focusing his attention back on driving his semen deep into you. His thumb runs across your clit, his thick, calloused finger working the magic you needed to reach that high youâd been craving. You begin to convulse, your body trembling as the orgasm washes over you. You begin sweating, the back of your knees growing wet, your hands going clammy and finding purchase on the sheets. You tug on them and draw your knees back to your chest, taking a glimpse at the abuse between your legs.
His palm smacks into you, thumb swiping back and forth and his cum tries to escape but he quickly slides it back into you.
âMine. Youâll be mine and only mine. Weâll do this as long as we need to ensure youâre impregnated,â he vows. His voice is muffled behind thrumming blood and your heartbeat against your eardrums. You barely take in the sight of his expert fingers helping you ride out that orgasm.Â
Youâre trembling by the time heâs done, when heâs satisfied that heâs pushed all of his passion for you inside. His wrist almost aches, twisting his hand in an attempt to relieve the pain. You relax onto the bed, catching your breath. Remnants of him still escape and spill over the cream sheets but neither of you pay any mind.
Adam climbs over you, placing a soft kiss to your forehead and embracing you with his naked body. Youâre so small underneath him, his sheer size always shocking you despite having known him for so long now. He kisses all over your face, his hands caress over damp, sticky skin and he slowly gets you to your side. He spoons you, hugging you close and you feel his needy cock poke at your naked ass. Thereâs a growl, rumbling and rattling your ribcage when he pulls you into his embrace.
Adamâs nose glides across your shoulder, then up your neck, to the back of your scalp where he breathes in deep behind the shell of your ear. He grabs your hip, making marks into your skin in the process.
âI wish for moreâŠâ You turn your head to meet one eye with his in shock.
âYou are fooling me, Adam,â you say breathlessly. âI think it worked, my loveâŠwe have to wait.â You hate that the very notion of him still having this crave for you did something to you. âWe simply canât go all night.â
He pouts, âyou said till the sun risesâŠâÂ
âI did not say that. You did,â you attempt to scooch away but he grabs you and pulls you against him roughly. His hands already begin wandering across your silky skin and you have to fight back a satisfying sigh.Â
âI know you want more. I can smell itâŠâ His hand cups the expanse of the back of your thigh and guides it open. Your heat is met with the cold air and the slight touch of his tip against your lips. You gasp, dropping your head to your pillow and covering your face.
âAdamâŠweâŠyouâŠâ
He slips in easily.
The night proved to be of great successâ thatâs what Adam seems to think anyway. The sun began creeping on the horizon when he had planted yet another load inside of you. Your fifth orgasm of the night, ninth for him. Your eyes flutter shut when he peels off of you. The bed smells of sex and sweat, the room hot, so hot that condensation coats the windows.Â
He takes a few deep breaths, brushing back his hair and leaning down over you.
âCome,â he says gently. He places his arms under your legs and back. Lifting you with an ease that would make your stomach flutter if it wasnât already. âLet me clean you up.â
You fall asleep in his arms before he even reaches the washroom.
âImogen,â You call out to your daughter who sits beside her father behind the fencing with all the sheep. Adam had been showing her how to properly care for them, the brushâ comically large in her small hands, drops to the ground at the sound of your voice. She sprints, jumping at the gate to unlock it. Your husband smiles, laughing at the sad attempt and rises to his full height to undo the lock. Imogen runs across the dirt path back to the house.
âYes?â She says sweetly. You wipe your hands on your apron.Â
âGo wash up for dinner, your father and I will have it ready soon.â You pat her bum as she runs into the cottage. Adam follows close behind, arms opening for your embrace. âYou teaching her well?â
Your husband embraces you and presses his chin to the top of your head, breathing your scent in deeply. He hums, rubbing your back in a slow and sensual way.
âYeahâŠHey,â He says gently, ducking his head to your ear. âIâve been pondering on a suggestionâŠâ
You start to ask him about what but when he places his hand over your stomach, the size of it practically covering the entire length of your body, you know what heâs wanting to ask for. The mischievous glint in his eye is enough to confirm your suspicion.
âAdamâŠanother?â
He shrugs. âLet me take care of you,â he nips his lips at your cheek, swiping them across to your ear and following the natural shape of it. His fingers tangle themselves into the ribbons that tie your apron behind you. âA dessert, perhaps? After dinner?â
You dare not meet eyes, your chances of refusing are slim when he looks at you with those glassy, needy eyes. Shoving him, you turn away from him and walk into the house. âWeâll talk about dessert after dinner.â He can hear the smirk in your voice then and he knows already his request will be granted. He just needs to be patient.
Featuring: billionaire businessman!Ransom Drysdale x curvy Female!Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Summary: Working as an executive for Hansen Industries has no shortage of perks, but founder and CEO Lloyd Hansen goes to special lengths to spoil those among the ranks of his C-suite team when the holidays roll around. After all, what do you get for fellow billionaires that they don't already have?
Content/Warnings: NON-CON/RAP3, abduction/human trafficking, bondage, objectification, explicit smut (rough fucking, manhandling, oral: female receiving, rimming: female receiving, vaginal fingering, light cum play), mild degradation, dirty talk, non-consensual video/photography, use of pet names (lamb, sweetheart), mild/implied dacryphilia
Author Notes: My first offering for the Hoes for the Holidays event I'm hosting with @stargazingfangirl18 and @biteofcherry. Prompts used: praise, tied up-but in a bow, dacryphilia, spanking, CEO AU-adjacent, abducted as a gift for someone, and "Look at you, my very own gift to unwrap."
â Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
âDamn, look at you, my very own present to unwrap,â Ransom remarked, drinking in the sight of you kneeling in the center of the room in the hotel suite.
"Hansen outdid himself this year."
Ransom didnât touch you. Not yet. He circled you, deliberate and unhurried, circling like a shark. He would make his attack soon enough. For now, he wanted to savor. Holiday gifts were wrapped for a reason, to please, to draw out the anticipation, and thatâs what you were, after all: the thing for him to play with after the holiday dinner downstairs in the Michelin star restaurant of this hotel, an indulgent tradition for the c-suite executives. And now, the anticipated holiday bonus.
He hummed in satisfaction, truly savoring the selection. There was a wide silk bow tied around your chest, and another around your waist, but neither served to cover you, but rather to highlight your soft and most vulnerable parts. Thigh high stockings adorned with tiny silk bows that matched the other ribbons rounded out the look. You were soft and full and round, and he couldnât wait to sink his teeth into you, squeeze your hips, smack your ass, relish your breasts. Taking another pass around you, he drew a finger along your chin, and you whimpered and shivered.
He chuckled. âOh, you absolute lamb. Iâm going to eat you alive.â
He was tempted to remove your blindfold to see the fear in your eyes, but anonymity was a key component into how this arrangement worked.
It wouldnât do for you to be able to identify anyone involved in your abduction, presentation, defilement, or clean up.
You would be well taken care of after he was done with you and two million dollars richer, so what could you really complain about anyway?
Your arms were bound and tied behind your back in another silky ribbon. That would do just fine for now.
He kept moving, a deliberate waltz around your naked form, savoring the turn of your head as you tracked him by sound, the instinctual twitch of muscle when he leaned in and his breath grazed your shoulder. Ransom kept his hands behind his back, but continued to tease you with the force of his presence, drawing out the expectation. He watched your hips shift, like you were trying to find a position that didnât leave you so exposed, and he grinned. Cute. You were not the first, would not be the lastâyet there was a reckless hope in the way you quivered, a desperate optimism that made him inclined to let you linger on the edge for a while, to make you really feel the breadth of his attention. At the end of the night, heâd send you off with cash-bloated bank accounts, but before that, heâd make sure you were overwhelmed and ruined with your pleasure and his.
He came to a stop in front of you, letting you stew in the hush that fell between his measured footfalls. He could feel your breathing ramp up, shallow and quick. He dipped his head, nostrils flaring at the faint shimmer of your perfumeâsomething soft and floral.
âThis can be as pleasant or as excruciating as you decide, sweetheart. Do you understand me?â He waited, listening to your wet, shallow breaths, the way you worried at your bottom lip. Another whimper. There was a hum of desperate compliance in it, but Ransom wanted more. He slipped a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up even though your eyes couldnât see him.
âSay it,â he ordered.
He was rewarded with the trembling words as you mumbled, âI understand.â Barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves might break you. He exhaled slow, savoring the tremor in your small confession, the bone-deep dread not even managing to stifle the shine in your voice. You wanted to please. You needed it.
Ransom cupped your jaw, thumb stroking light across your bottom lip. Already slick and swollen, bitten through. He pressed, not enough to hurt, but just so youâd give him another of those pretty whimpers, flinch, taste the edge waiting for you. âGood girl.â He let it land, watched the ripple of reliefâor maybe just the rawness, the way it left your shoulders trembling in their bindings. âNow open,â he said, and you did, gasping as he slipped two fingers between your lips. Slick, hot breath shuddered around them. Ransom let his fingers linger, curving them over your tongue, pressing against the wet, answering pressure of your mouth. God, you were eager, and you didnât even know it yet.
He withdrew his fingers with a wet sound, wiped them across your jawline. âYouâre so sweet already.â The words left his mouth low and close to your ear, making you jerk. âIâm going to ruin you for hours. But Iâll make you thank me for it.â
He straightened, fingers abandoning your chin, leaving a faint sticky trace. Ransom wondered how long youâd last before the panic turned to something hot and shameless. He found himself wanting to draw it outâreally test the edges. He circled again, this time pausing at your back, the line of your spine bowed perfect in its vulnerability.
He reached down, ran his palm slow over the curve of your hip. Warmth bled from your skin, and a tiny, involuntary tremor ran beneath his hand. âBut how to break you in? I can hardly decide.â
He walked his large hand along your flank, slow enough to make you gasp, then measured the distance between the knots at your wrists, the way your pulse beat hard against the ribbon. Youâd been tied tight, but carefulâno cuts or rawness, just evidence of restraint and attention.
Testing, he gave a gentle tug at the ribbon that cinched your arms, and you crumpled, chest bowed forward, your whole body turned pliant. A small, unsteady noise escaped you. The sound caught somewhere between surrender and anticipation, and Ransom smiled. You had smart instincts; panic wouldnât serve you, and he could see you were clawing desperately to temper it.
"Let's get a better look at what we've got," he said, half to himself and reached for your hips, guiding them up until your knees bit into the plush carpet and your cheek pressed flat to the floor.
âThaaatâs better,â he crooned, admiring the new arrangement. The arch of your back, the helpless tilt of your headâlike a little animal, trembling and trapped. With your arms still bound, you had no leverage, nothing to shield you from him, ass high and exposed.
He cupped your ass, and surveyed the new configuration, a geometric precision to the lines of limb and curve. You breathed hard, the sound raw in the space he knew was so foreign to you.
He knelt behind you, large hands splayed across the fullness of your ass. He pulled at the end of the bow around your hips, and the fabric gave way with a whisper, pooling at your knees in a silk puddle, your thighs bare beneath his gaze. Ransom ran his palm down the backs of your legs, thumb following the seam where stocking met skin, then gripped your inner thigh just above the knee. He splayed your legs wider, slow, unyielding, his largeness nothing short of predatory. There, nowâhe could see everything.
He brought his palm down lightly, a warning, then smoothed the sting away, then smacked again, each slap blooming hotter across your skin.
At the third, you yelped and tried to twist away, but there was nowhere to go, nothing to do but absorb and shudder.
He bent forward, lips brushing the shell of your ear. âThatâs it,â he soothed into the line of your jaw, âlet it out. Donât hold yourself back. I will have you screaming, begging for me by the end of the night.â
Your trembling grew, raw and urgent, as he alternated between slow spanks and concentrated kneading. He watched for the pause, that split second before your body realized it was safe enough to turn pain to something else. He felt itâyour hips shifting, a keening in your throat, wetness starting to bloom between your thighs in a shimmer he could smell. You didnât say a word, but your body was already learning its new language, and he was a patient, predatory teacher.
After a whileâtime was truly no object to him tonightâRansom knelt and slithered his tongue along the seam of your cunt, savoring the sweet, warm taste that greeted him. You gasped, bucked hard, but Ransom only gripped your hips tighter, pressed your thighs open with steady, implacable force, holding you wide and helpless as his mouth worked: slow, wicked strokes, from the base of your cunt, torturing your clit up your slit to your drippy hole. Then again. He tongued your clit with the tip of his tongue, feather-light, then sucked until you moaned, the sound desperate and raw even through the way you tried to muffle it.
He licked you open, drew the shudder out of you. Then, quick, he pressed two thick fingers against your slit, teasing the softness just enough so your knees buckled, before he pulled away entirely.
You whined, and he chuckled, licking his lips. He took his time, savoring your shuddering in the silence, fingers idly toying with the slickness already starting to drip down your inner thighs while you tried to catch a breath that never came. But Ransom had always preferred a challenge, and youâgagged by fear and uncertainty, trembling and ruinedâwere giving him everything he wanted.
âLook at you,â he said, âgorgeously pathetic, dripping even though you know you shouldnât want this. Bet you ever had a real man touch you before, only vanilla guys.â He didnât wait for an answer, just shoved your thighs further apart, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. âFucking disgraceful,â he sneered, âyouâre squirming like a bitch in heat, and Iâve barely even started.â
Without warning, Ransom sank his teeth into the fleshiest part of your ass, not enough to break skin, but enough to leave the shadow of promise behind. While his grip on your hips held you fast, his tongue mapped the seam between your thigh and your ass, lingering at the sensitive border, flicking, then burrowing closer to your entrance. He wanted to see what youâd do with something youâd likely never been given before, and he wasnât disappointed. The first tentative lick to your tightest, most forbidden place made you gasp, hips jerking, legs trembling in their bonds.
You made a sound that was half moan, half whine. âNever had a man do that before, huh?â he crooned, voice thick with mocking delight. He tongued you again, firmer, flattening his tongue and working the tight ring open, slow, insistent. He licked you again, slow and filthy, tongue dragging a wet, deliberate stripe over you, then did it again, and again. Your muscles spasmed, trying to flex away, but his grip on your hips was iron, and every attempt to escape just made him dig in harder, rooting you in place, forcing you to take it.
He kept at you with the flat, hot coil of his tongue, pressing until you twitched, a storm of nerves firing up your spine. You tried to hold quiet, but the moan that had been building slipped free as a broken, startled sob. It made him laugh. He liked hearing you try to fight your own body. Liked it even more when you lost.
Ransom slipped two thick fingers into your cunt without warning, the entry so sudden and full you jolted forward, nearly collapsing into the carpet. He liked the way you clenched around him, liked the frantic stutter of your breath as you tried to catch up with the intrusion. He pumped them hard, knuckles grinding against your slick, swollen lips as he tongued your ass, filthy and greedy, like he owned every inch of you.
He didnât let up, not for a second, holding you open and wet and stuffed, just the way he liked it. Youâd gone from muffled dread to a kind of voiceless humâeach thrust pulling something near-voiceless out of you, a private collection of shameful little sounds. Ransom wanted it broadcast: how thoroughly you were being taken apart.
He pushed you harder, further, until the noises he wrung out of you were truly indecent. Ransom continued to work you, making you take everything, until your body finally shook itself to a stuttering halt. The beast in his chest thumped triumphantly, and he pulled back to survey his first victory of the night.
Ransom wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, panting softly, and sat back on his haunches. He let the moment stretch, making sure you felt every second of silence, every humiliating tick of time spent on humiliating display for him, drooling onto a carpet so expensive youâd never be able to afford it yourself.
Well, after the compensation for your unwilling service, you would. But that was semantics.
He slid a hand into the pocket of his tailored trousers and drew out his phone. He unlocked it with a flick, and the soft click of the camera app sounded loud in the hush. He framed you, hands spreading you wider, angling your hips so the lens caught every inch of your used, leaking cunt, the marks heâd left. He squeezed out a few photo bursts, then switched to video, running the lens up and down your body with the kind of clinical detachment that only made your humiliation more absolute.
âLook at that,â he zoomed in on your cunt, then dragged the lens up to your ass, your back, the soft indent at the base of your spine. Your stocking-clad legs, splayed shameless. âLook at how wrecked you are. Fuck, youâre dripping on the carpet. You gonna make a mess all over the suite? Pathetic.â His thumb pressed into your folds, parting your puffy lips to show the glossy, dripping mess, documenting proof of what heâd done.
He thumbed at the sticky mess for another moment, then pocketed his phone before grabbing your hips with both hands and flipping you over in one easy motion, as if you were just another piece of luggage to be stacked or unstacked. Your knees scraped across the plush rug, landing askew, on your back, arms trapped uncomfortably beneath you, blindfold still cinched tight.
âAnd that was only the first round,â he chuckled darkly. âYouâve been a good little lamb so far.â His hand snared the the base of your throat, pinning you briefly but harshly to the ground. âAnd now I want to see how well you choke.â
He only relented to let you breathe because he needed both hands to efficiently unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and lower them down his thick thighs.
âYouâre going to love the way I fuck your throat.â
I'm not okay. Was this what I planned to offer up first for our merry little fest? Nope. But the idea struck me as I was going to sleep last night, and I woke up with it infecting my every thought, so here we are. I make .... basically no apologies. He's mean and rough and my đ± is still buzzing here as I finish. I'm still quaking over how mean he is, but I couldn't resist him.
â Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
you worry youâre a monster beyond saving, but jud reassures you that he could never think of you in that way OR in which you have an obsession with judâs neck. based on this ask
a/n: this is my first time trying something like this but I really loved how it turned out, hope you enjoy!
father jud duplenticy x vampire!fem!reader, 1.8k words
Not for the first time, you find yourself staring at Judâs neck.Â
Heâs got a really nice neck. Youâre a bit obsessed with it. Most of the time itâs half concealed by his robes or the tall collar of his button up â heâs quite diligent in keeping up his appearances as a priest, and you admire him for it.Â
But on rare occasions like tonight, in his bedroom up the stairs of the secondary church building, you get to see him in regular clothes. Tonight heâs wearing a simple cotton tshirt and flannel pyjama pants. He sits in his bed, back to the wall, bent over a thick book.Â
Youâre sitting next to him, pretending to read over his shoulder but really just admiring his neck. His tattoo is captivating. The way it disappears under his collar; you like the intrigue of it. It helps that he smells fantastic up close like this â when you first met him, the sweet, heady scent of his blood was the first thing you noticed.
âI can feel you staring,â Jud says.Â
You don't blush. Vampires donât blush, but youâre sure you would if you could.Â
âIâm admiring,â you correct him.Â
Jud twists to look at you, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Heâs so close you could kiss him. Or bite his neck. Either would do.Â
âAdmiring, huh?â He murmurs. âOr sizing me up for your next meal?âÂ
You giggle. Jud makes you laugh a lot, more than youâve laughed in a really really long time. Heâs funny, for a priest; all the priests youâve ever known have been old and grumpy. Jud is different. Heâs young, passionate, kind and funny. Heâs gentle most of the time but fierce when he needs to be.Â
You like him a lot. Itâs too bad heâs a good guy and youâre, well⊠a monster.Â
âNo,â you muse. âIâd never suck your blood, Jud.âÂ
Jud grins at you lopsidedly. âYou wouldnât? Why, you donât think Iâd taste good?âÂ
You shake your head. âThe opposite, actually. If I started I donât think Iâd be able to stop.âÂ
You only realise how weird it sounds after the words leave your mouth. By then itâs too late. Jud falls silent. You think you catch an inkling of something in his eyes. Fear? Trepidation? But then itâs gone a second later, replaced with his usual soft gaze, and youâre sure you imagined it.
Jud hums thoughtfully. âI think Iâll take that as a compliment.âÂ
You watch as he goes back to his book. You wonder, not for the first time, if you frighten him. Youâre not exactly normal. Youâre not even human, not really. And youâre certainly not naturally kind hearted and gentle like he is. Youâre a monster. Youâve hurt people. Youâve killed people.Â
You know thereâs no saving you, but you suppose that some part of you, tucked away near your heart, hopes that by being with Jud, you can redeem yourself just a little from the things youâve done. Youâre unsure whether your hope is fruitless or not.Â
You climb off of Judâs bed and cross the small room to his dresser. A mirror sits on top of it. In it, you can see your reflection.Â
Your skin is paler than it was when you were alive. You seem to sport permanent dark circles under your eyes. When you smile, your fangs show, pearly white and sharp as knives. There are scars shining on your skin from the day you died. You look like a monster. You wouldnât call yourself pretty. More like frighteningly beautiful. Not ugly, but certainly not pretty, either.Â
In the mirror, your reflection gazes back at you dully, a frown tugging at her lips.Â
Behind you, Jud climbs off his bed and crosses the room to where you stand.Â
âHey,â he says softly. He wraps his arms around your middle. You watch him in the mirror as he tucks his chin over your shoulder. His warmth is heavy, his chest firm where itâs pressed to your back. âWhatâs wrong? Are you okay?âÂ
You trail your fingers along his forearm where itâs pressed to your stomach. His skin feels hot as a furnace against your cold fingers.Â
âYouâre so warm,â you tell him.Â
Jud hums, stepping closer to you, pulling you into his chest. âThatâs âcos youâre perpetually cold, honey.âÂ
Your stomach swoops at the pet name. Judâs not a shy guy, but heâs not usually overly affectionate either. To have him doting on you so ardently makes you feel dizzy. It also makes you feel totally undeserving.Â
âJud,â you say slowly. âDo youâŠdo you think Iâm a monster?âÂ
Jud goes dead quiet. For a moment, you think he wonât say anything. You wouldnât blame him if he did think youâre a monster. But then Jud loosens his arms and instead gets his hands on your shoulders, turning you around to face him. You let yourself be manhandled until youâre face to face with him and heâs staring down at you like youâre the only thing thatâs ever mattered to him.Â
âY/NâŠâ he says gently. âHow could I ever think that?â Â
You swallow around the lump in your throat. âI donât know. I just feel so⊠different. Iâve done bad things. Iâm not a good person like you are, Jud.âÂ
Jud shakes his head. âYou know that doesnât matter to me. Iâve done things I regret, too. Awful things.âÂ
Youâre not sure you believe him. Even if he has done bad things, heâs better now. Heâs good, and youâve seen for yourself how he tries every day to be better. You, on the other hand, feel like youâre stuck being a monster forever. Thereâs no escaping what you are.Â
Jud must read the look on your face, because he doubles down,
âY/N. I donât think youâre a monster. Youâre not.â He takes your face in his hands. His palms are rough and calloused from hours of woodworking, but he holds you like youâre made of glass. âYou canât help whatâs happened to you, but youâre certainly not a monster. Not in my eyes.âÂ
Youâre stunned into a sort of dizzy silence. To hear Jud say something like that so fiercely makes you suddenly so lovesick you can barely stand. You grab him for support, hands fisting in his tshirt.Â
âJud.â His name sounds like a prayer on your lips. âCould I kiss you?âÂ
Itâs about as much as you could manage. Youâre suddenly overwhelmed with a tidal wave of feelings for him. You donât think you could put into words what you feel â youâd rather show him. Jud looks down at you and seems to understand.Â
âSure, sweetheart,â he murmurs.Â
You kiss him fiercely. Youâre careful not to hurt him, but passionate all the same. Youâve kissed him before, but never like this. Never like you need him to breathe.Â
You try to put all the words you canât say into the kiss; I love you. I donât deserve you. Youâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to me in my long, long life. I donât know if I could exist without you anymore.Â
You somehow end up back at Judâs bed. He sits on the edge and you hover over him, standing between his legs.Â
âIâm sorry,â you say, chest rising and falling. You feel half embarrassed at your outburst, half desperate to kiss him again. âI justâŠâÂ
You trail off. Youâre no good with words. They get lodged in your throat and refuse to come out. You wish you could just rip out your heart and hand it to Jud so heâd understand how you feel about him.Â
Jud, ever the saint, gets his hands around your elbow and tugs you closer.Â
âItâs alright,â he says, gentle enough to make your chest ache. âYou donât have to say it. Kiss me again.âÂ
You donât have to be told twice. Carefully, you climb into his lap, kneeling on the bed with your knees planted on either side of his hips. Jud holds you by the elbows and you press your mouth to his in a fervent kiss. He doesnât kiss you so much as let himself be kissed, his lips parting a millimetre and then another and another, until your kisses become open-mouthed and hot. You brace your hands on his shoulders and move closer, bridging the gap between your chest and his.Â
You kiss him like a woman starved. Hands greedy as they creep up his shoulders to the curve of his neck. Judâs warm hands find your waist, climbing your ribcage, up up up.Â
Your thumb finds Judâs collar and dips beneath it. Your fingers spread over the skin between his neck and shoulder. Beneath them, you find his pulse.Â
Jud takes over the kissing while you become distracted by the feeling over his pulse thump-thump-thumping under your touch. He kisses you with as much warmth as you had him, so sure of himself, so sure of you.Â
You smooth your palm up his neck and back down again, imagining how it would feel to kiss him there, to press your mouth to his pulse, to carefully pull his delicate skin between your teeth and suck until a love bite blooms.Â
The thought consumes you. Youâre kissing along his jaw before you can stop yourself. Quick, hot kisses like tiny stars, Judâs light stubble rough under your lips. Jud sighs, warm breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. He pulls you closer, big hand spreading over the small of your back.Â
Spurred on, you kiss the spot under his ear. Slowly, your mouth traverses a hot path down his neck until you reach his tattoo.Â
Jud groans softly once you kiss over his pulse point. He grabs at you like heâs afraid youâll slip away, his hands hot like starlight through your clothes. Youâre close enough now to his neck that you can smell his blood clear as ever. The scent of it is intoxicating. You press the bridge of your nose to his neck, breathing hard. Over the years youâve gotten good at restraining yourself, but that doesnât mean the animalistic instinct rooted deep in your gut doesnât want to bite him right then and there.Â
âHey,â Jud breathes out, his voice rugged. He encourages you away from his neck, one hand slotting under your jaw. âWhyâd you stop?âÂ
You bite your lip and donât meet his eyes. âI donât want to hurt you,â you say quietly.Â
Jud tilts your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye.Â
âYou wonât,â he says.Â
âBut arenât you scared I will?âÂ
Jud studies your face with a look in his eyes like he can see right through you.Â
âIâm not scared of you. I could never be scared of you, honey.âÂ
Warmth floods your chest and seeps into the gaps in your ribs. Your limbs suddenly feel heavy with it. You could cry with how much you love him right now.Â
âYouâre sure?â You utter.Â
Jud tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, âIâm sure.âÂ
You lean in close, hands on Judâs biceps, and press your mouth to his pulse point again. His breath stutters with want.
âOkay,â you whisper into his skin. âStay still, handsome.âÂ
The next morning, Jud wakes up with a cluster of love bites all over his neck. Heâs lucky his collar is tall enough to hide them.Â
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed đ
summary: 18+!!!!!!, receiving head, fingering, praying, blasphemy, porn without plot, religious guilt, jud is ooc
reader has dreams about father jud and needs prayer to get them away
wc : 1.3k
a/n: this was literally just self indulgent since father jud has overtaken my thoughts lol also my first smut and fic ever
Every alarm in her head was telling her to stop, but it was as if someone else was controlling her. The idea of a Devil, the one thing that could release her from all blame, seemed more and more palpable by the second. She knocked and knocked until her knuckles turned red. This was wrong, her thoughts were wrong, evil, wicked, she needed to pray it all away and-
âAre you okay?â Father Jud said as soon as he opened the door. Suddenly, as she was faced with the man himself, all of her problems faded into embarrassment.Â
âFather, I am sorry for bothering you, but I need your help, pleaseâŠâ she pleaded, her voice almost giving up.
âYou're never bothering me, don't be ridiculous, come inâ
She sat on the couch, waiting for him to bring her a cup of tea he promised 5 minutes ago. The fireplace made her warmer, she needed fresh air. Devious, devious, harlot-
âI didn't have mint, but I hope you like chamomile,â he handed her a cup with his warm smile. She stared at him for a moment too long, the fire light making him look just as she had dreamed him. Heavenly, as he always was.
âSo, do you want to talk about what happened?â
His lips trailed down her neck, his hands found their way everywhere they could. He stopped just as he reached her panties and looked up at her like a man starved.
âI've been having⊠dreams.â
âDreams?â
She could feel his breath on her, warm, intoxicating. He awoke a need so hard, it was making her heart burst.
 âYou're beautiful like thisâ
She closed her eyes shut, as if that would erase the feeling between her thighs.
âI dream of you⊠Father it is horrible, I can't sleep at night,â she put the cup down on the table, âplease help me, it is unholy, it's blasphemyâ
Jud avoided her eyes for a second, but soon he couldn't look away. The silence he answered her with made the pounding in her heart louder and louder.Â
âWhat do you dream of?â
âI just told you-â
âI can't help you unless you tell me exactly what it is I do to you in those dreams,â he said sternly, with a look she quite never saw before. Now she was embarrassed, it was stupid of her to come here, she could never say what she wanted out loud.
âI can help you,â he moved closer to her, âbut not if you don't tell me what you wantâ
The ache between her thighs burned, she needed all of him. His smell alone was intoxicating, he smelled of pure sin, he smelled of want.Â
I need you.
As if he could read her mind, he closed the gap between them.
Jud entangled his hands in her hair, pulling her closer, as if letting her go would be his own form of starvation. He was drinking up every last part of her, inhaling her scent and at the same time taking her breath away.
He pulled away just enough to breathe, just enough to still feel her around him.Â
âPlease,â she pleaded with him, praying to him for salvation. And he gave her exactly that.
âAfter those dreams,â he trailed his hands underneath her nightgown, âdo you pray?â
âYesâ
âThen start praying.â
âDear Heavenly FatherâŠâ
He left messy kisses down her neck, biting her and then kissing it after. Fixing his sin with his own form of prayer, his own form of worship.
âKeep goingâ
âGuard my heart from these desiresâ
He got on his knees in front, starting his own form of prayer, one that he would condemn himself for until the end of his life. His mouth ravaged her thighs, like a man starved, he wished he could die like this.
 Jud lifted her legs up and pulled her closer to him, until he was face to face with her cunt. It was then that he realised she wasn't wearing anything underneath her nightgown. All of this was for him, she was his personal place of worship, one that he could defile however he wanted.
âGive me strength to resist temptationâ
His mouth quickly latched onto her clit, making her squirm, making him only grip her thighs harder.
âFatherâŠâ
âDid I tell you to stop praying?â
She moaned as he sucked onto her clit, every sigh and moan he got out of her only made him go faster. Heaven's choir was above him and who was he to deny her pleasure?
Jud let go of one of her thighs and his fingers found their way inside of her, making her gasp at the sudden fullness.
His mouth worked, licking up every part of her, while he pumped his fingers in and out of her.
âBlessed Virgin Mary, Mother m-most pureâ
He looked up at her, a stuttering mess, all because of him. He was giving her exactly what she dreamed of, he was making her whole again. He went faster, holding onto her thigh looking for something to ground him. As if she knew, her hand entangled into his hair and pulled him closer, so desperate, so needy for his touch. He felt as if he was in heaven.
âpray for m-me and cover me with yourâŠâ
âWith her what sweetheart?â she whined at the sudden denial of her pleasure.
ââŠwith your mantleâ
âGood girlâ
He went back with the same pace he had before, he knew she was close, her legs squeezed around him. Every part of her was pulling him closer, every part of her needed this more than any prayer he could offer.Â
âI place my trust in Your mercy Lord-â
She moaned as a warm pleasure washed over her, she never felt this blessed. She needed this feeling of intoxication every day of her life. She needed him praying to her day, noon and night. He let her ride out her orgasm on his face, his entire face wet with her, Jud placed a small kiss on her thigh and looked up at the beauty of Heaven before him.
